Maxie Winchester
by loveintheimpala
Summary: Sisfic. Max deals with the reunion of her family, as well as her troubled personal life, along with her older brother and best friend Dean and her twin brother Sam, while they search for their missing father, hunting and killing the supernatural along the way. Set in season one, mostly follows the series. (edited by winchestergirl67)
1. Chapter 1

_Hey! So welcome to my story. It's a sisfic set from the beginning of season one, mostly from Max's point of view, which will mostly follow the season. Dean is 26, Sam and Max are 22. Hope you like it and enjoy reading! :)  
I also want to say a huge thank you to my friend Louise, or winchestergirl67 as you may know her, for all of her help with this story and for proof reading for me!_

* * *

**October 31st, 2005, 09:23AM, Idaho. **

"Maxie." I heard Dean's voice call through the open bathroom door as he moved around the motel room, I assumed he was gathering up the weeks worth of clothes he'd just left lying around in there. I didn't bother going to see what he wanted, I simply spat out the toothpaste in my mouth and rolled my eyes. I looked at myself in the mirror, pushing a lock of blonde hair behind my ear. I didn't see it myself, but Dean and my dad were forever telling me how much I looked like my mom, but I didn't really remember her, I'd only seen pictures. I had light blonde hair, just longer than my shoulders, bright green eyes and tanned skin. "I swear to god," Dean continued, apparently not getting that I was ignoring him. "-if you aren't in that car in the next five seconds, I'm leaving your ass here." He threatened. I could hear his voice was light and playful enough that he was obviously kidding, but then again, he usually was.

"Yeah right," I smirked to myself, leaving the bathroom and closing the zip on my duffle bag before lifting it from the bed, tossing it over my shoulder. "-like you could survive a day without me." I muttered sarcastically, turning to face him as he walked towards me, an eyebrow raised. "And if you call me Maxie one more time, I'll stab you in the neck." I added, I hated being called Maxie, he knew that, which was probably why he insisted on doing it. In fact, the only thing I hated being called more than Maxie, was Maxine, or Maxine-Marie. That was the one he usually used when he was pissed, which meant it came at the beginning of an argument. Dean gave a small laugh as he pushed me in the back of the shoulder towards the motel's door, giving the room one last look over before he grabbed his keys from the side of the table as he passed and handed them to me. I squinted through the bright sunlight as I walked out of the room, taking Dean's duffle from him and heading to the Impala as he walked in the opposite direction towards the motel's reception desk to check us out.

I threw our bags into the trunk of the car before walking around and climbing into the passenger seat, pulling off my jacket and tossing it over my shoulder to the backseat as I did. The weather was fairly warm to say that today was Halloween, the sun was shining and the wind was almost non existent, not something I expected to last. I reached out ahead of me and turned on the radio, smiling to myself as one of my favorite Metallia songs began playing, turning up the volume slightly and sitting back in my seat. To say I hadn't had a normal upbringing would be an understatement, it had always been moving from motel room to motel room, a different town every few weeks, ganking monsters as we went. Sounds awful, but I loved it. I always did. I was especially like Dean when it came to that, we both loved the job, we loved driving at the top end of the speed limit down empty roads with the music turned up full. We loved saving people, we even loved living on the heart attack inducing take out food. Despite all of the upset and the pain the job had brought throughout the years, all of the rough patches our family had been through, I wouldn't have changed how it ended. My twin brother, Sam, had finally gotten his wish and left the life he'd always hated, our dad had gone off alone keeping himself busy with whatever it was he couldn't tell us about, but Dean and I had been happy. We were finally on our own, we were independent, and we could just hunt. I looked to my left as Dean climbed into the car beside me, putting it straight into gear and setting off out of the motel's parking lot. "Where are we going, anyway?" I asked him, raising my voice slightly so he heard me over the music. It wasn't like Dean to wake up one morning and decide that we have to leave immediately.

"We're going to get some help." He answered simply.

"Help from who?" I was confused now, his eyes were fixed on the road, like he was avoiding looking at me. I reached out and turned the music down to a more suitable level, my voice turning serious. "Is this about dad?" I pressed slowly. He'd gone off somewhere, claiming whatever he was doing was too dangerous for us to know about. Then we hadn't heard from him for a few weeks, until yesterday when Dean had received a voice mail from him, and I'd be lying if I said it hadn't creeped the hell out of me. Dean still didn't respond. "Are we talking help from Bobby, Caleb? Who?"

Dean paused for a couple of seconds, I could see by his face, he wasn't expecting me to like whatever he was about to say. "Actually, I was thinking a little closer to home."

I frowned, there wasn't really anyone much closer to home, it wasn't really like we had a huge family of people to choose from. I opened my mouth to ask who he was talking to, stopping when I got a horrible thought. "Wait, Sam?" I couldn't even believe the word coming from my own mouth, it had been a long while since we'd talked about him.

"He's Sam's dad too, Max." Dean answered quietly. "He should help."

"Dean," I began softly. We both missed Sam, whether we wanted to admit that to the other or not. "Sam's not going to want to help us."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because, he left." I answered simply. "And he left for a reason. He doesn't want dragging back in."

"Well, I guess we'll see when we get there, won't we?"

I shook my head. "Dean, are you sure about this? I mean, I'm sure dad's fine. He probably just got caught up in a hunt or something, you know how he gets." I reasoned, my voice remaining calm.

"I don't know, Max. I just can't shake this feeling. Something's wrong. I need you to trust me on this." He took his eyes away from the road for a second to face me, our eyes meeting for that split second. I knew how worried he was getting about dad, not that he was going to admit it, he knew he didn't need to.

"Okay." I said quietly, going back to looking out of the window ahead. Even as kids, I'd always considered myself to be more like Dean than Sam. The two of us shared most of the same attitudes, whether that was towards school or hunting or music or even crap like food and movies, we were much more alike than Sam and I had ever been. That didn't mean I don't love Sam, of course I did, I loved them both in different ways, for different reasons. Sam had always been like my best friend, the one I'd always talked to when I'd had a problem, especially the awkward ones during my teenage years. Sam had always been the one I'd been closer to growing up. Saying that, whether he was my twin or not, I hadn't seen him in almost four years. I'd barely spoken to him aside from a few phonecalls here and there, phonecalls that had also decreased in number as time had gone on, by now they were almost none existent. Of course I lied about it, but I missed him like hell every single day that went by. I missed our childish little arguments, the way we used to wind up Dean or when the three of us would stay up all night watching crappy movies together until we'd fall asleep on the couch. I missed us being a family. But I understood why he'd left when he did, why this life could be so hard for someone who didn't want it, and I didn't blame him for that, I'd been happy for him. "Hey Dean?" I eventually broke the silence between us.

"Yeah?" He responded, his voice was soft, in a way it wasn't when he was with most other people. That was another thing Dean and I had in common, around other people we pretended like we were these strong, tough people, like everything was always okay. But when something wasn't okay, we could read each other like a book, there wasn't any point in pretending.

"You think he's okay, right? I mean.." I trailed off, not really knowing what I meant.

Dean sighed sadly, I could see he didn't know how to answer that one. "I dunno, sis." He said quietly. "But hey, you're okay, I'm okay, that's something."

"Right." I mumbled, returning his small smile with a much less confident one. I wasn't expecting this to go well at all, in fact, I was expecting Sam to say no, Dean to get pissed, and the three of us to become more distant than we already were. But I guess we'd have to see..

* * *

**Four years ago, Oklahoma.**

"Maybe you should go upstairs?" Dean had suggested midway through dad and Sam's fight, his voice low enough that only I heard him. "I can see this getting ugly."

"Nah." I answered simply. "I'm wanna be here."

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Dad thundered, all the years of hunting and I don't think I'd ever seen him so mad.

"No, dad, who the hell do you think you are?!" Sam countered, now equally as angry. "What do you honestly think gives you the right to treat us the way you do, to try and control us like you do?! You pushed me into this life, all I'm doing is leaving it."

"Yeah, as well as your family."

Sam scoffed at that comment. "Family?" He repeated slowly. "You're one to talk about family. Look at what you've done to yours."

Dad blinked hard. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You really think this is what we wanted? And what about Max, huh? She's only eighteen. Are you really going to let her do this for the rest of her life?"

I hated when people did that, when they brought you into arguments that were nothing to do with you, but I let it go, I didn't say anything. "Don't bring your sister into this." Dad argued, clearly becoming more and more annoyed with each statement Sam made.

"And what about mom?" I could see it, this was getting out of hand, and fast. "You think this is the life she'd have wanted for us?"

I felt Dean's arm tighten around me at the mention of mom, his fingertips now slightly digging into my ribs. "Don't you dare, Sam." Dad warned, he looked livid.

Sam shook his head. "I'm done with it. You are not controlling me anymore." He said coldly.

"You walk out that door, Sam, don't you ever come back." Dad warned, his tone hard, unforgiving.

Sam shook his head at him. "I'm out of here." He bent down and picked up his bag, throwing it over his shoulder again before heading towards the door. He stopped for a second and looked at me and Dean. "If you two had any sense you'd both do the same." He muttered before walking out of the motel and slamming the door closed behind himself.

I winced at the sound of the bang, looking from the door to dad. I loved him, I did, but we all knew this time he was out of order, he'd gone too far. I pulled myself free from Dean's hold and made a move towards the door after Sam. "Where do you think you're going?" Dad called after me. I shot a glare over my shoulder, not even having the guts to look at Dean, before I walked out and slammed the door.

I saw Sam standing on the side of the road, obviously waiting for his cab. I looked at him sadly, most teenagers in his position would spend their last few minutes at home, their families crying, telling them they loved them and that they were proud and they'd miss them, I wish Sam could have had that. "Hey, Sam!" I yelled, making him jump. He turned to face me, looking as though he thought I was about to give him the same speech as dad, his eyes almost begging for me not to, like he couldn't take being told the same thing from me. "You just gonna leave without saying goodbye?" I said lightly, ignoring the lump I could feel in my throat.

"Max, I'm sorry." He whispered as I got closer to him. "I didn't think it'd get so.. out of hand."

I shook my head, stopping in front of him and wrapping my arms around him. "I'm not mad, Sammy." I said softly, my voice cracking. "I'm really gonna miss you."

"Yeah, I'll miss you too." He said sadly, tightening his arms around me and placing a soft kiss to the top of my head. I felt so small in his arms, I always did, not like we were twins, like I was a little kid. "Look after yourself, sis."

I nodded and pulled back, looking up at him, I could feel the tears shining in my eyes, but I didn't care. "You better stay in touch."

"Promise." He said quietly, looking to the side as a cab pulled up beside us. "I gotta go."

"Yeah." I took a step back and nodded. "Bye, Sammy."

* * *

**November 1st, 2005, 2:47AM, Palo Alto.**

"Max.." I heard a voice, they sounded somewhere in the distance but I couldn't tell where. "Maxie.." They said again, this time louder. I felt someone run a hand through the front of my hair gently, pushing it from my face. "Max!" They yelled, all aspects of softness gone.

I jumped at their voice, sitting up quickly and almost banging heads with Dean. "What?" I muttered, I didn't even remember falling asleep. I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand, looking around slowly. It was now dark outside. I sat up properly, Dean's leather jacket falling off me from where he must have draped it over me while I'd been sleeping.

"We're here." He said slowly, looking out of the car ahead at the block of apartments. I didn't even know how he knew where Sam lived, I'm not sure I wanted to know. "What were you dreaming so hard about anyway?"

I blinked hard. "What?"

"You were mumbling in your sleep." He said, his voice remaining calm, but I knew full well what he was getting at. "Another nightmare?" He pressed.

"It's fine." I muttered, glancing down at the time, 2:49AM. "And why are we here at this time?" I asked him, changing the subject before he had a chance to carry it on. "Shouldn't we have gotten a motel and called back at a more, I don't know, human time?" Dean rolled his eyes at me and climbed out of the car, not saying anything. I sighed and followed his lead, heading over towards the door but stopping as I realised he wasn't behind me, he was heading in a different direction. "Dude, what are you doing? The door's this way."

"Like you said, it's almost 3AM, everyone's gonna be asleep." He said simply, a small smirk playing on his face.

"Yeah, which is why we go and knock on the door. Not break into the place like you're planning on doing." I muttered, my protest apparently falling on deaf ears as he continued his own way.

"C'mon, Maxie, where's the fun in knocking on the door?" He laughed.

"Fine," I sighed in defeat, following him. "-but if he kills us, it's on you." I wasn't ready for this. I thought back to the night he'd left, four years ago. The night we'd all promised that we'd always be fine, nothing would change. But it hadn't been fine. It had been far from fine. And that had been the point that everything had gone downhill between the three of us. We hadn't known it then, but the promises of staying in touch and always being there for each other weren't going to last. We were already drifting apart, and we didn't even realise it. Every step Sam took towards college, and every step Dean and I were taking towards dad and hunting, it was tearing us apart.

"Relax." He muttered, climbing up and stopping outside of a window, easily having it open. He climbed through it and into the dark room, closely followed by me. I stayed put by the window while I watched him walk further inside. We weren't even in there for more than a couple of minutes before a figure came out of nowhere and grabbed Dean by the shoulders, an attack he easily blocked. Dean grabbed them around the arm and swung them around, shoving them hard in the chest. Whoever they were, they seemed to go still as Dean moved through the light coming through the window, Dean taking full advantage of that and quickly having them on the floor, pinning them there. "Whoa, easy tiger." Dean said brightly, I could even hear the cocky grin in his voice.

"Dean?" The guy pinned beneath him breathed out, his voice a mixture of confusion and shock. The voice was Sam's. Dean only laughed, not saying anything. "You scared the crap out of me."

"That's 'cause you're out of practice." I saw Sam frown at that before he grabbed Dean, slamming the heel of his foot into Dean's back and pinning him to the floor. "Or not." Dean huffed out, he sounded mildly surprised. "Get off me."

Sam rolled off him, pulling Dean up to face him. I looked over him slowly, he looked the same as he had done four years ago, just, bigger. I'd changed so much, I looked so much older, I expected he would have done too. "What the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked.

"Well, we were looking for a beer." Dean said lightly, his tone back to his cheery self.

"We?" Sam questioned, I could see by the look on his face, Sam knew Dean was only going to have been talking about me. "Where-" He stopped as his eyes fell to me. "Max?"

"Hey, Sam." I said simply. He looked at me for a couple more seconds before returning his attention to Dean.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked again.

"Okay, alright, we've gotta talk."

"Uh, the phone?"

I scoffed at that comment, both Sam and Dean pausing to look at me for a second. Sam looked confused, as if he didn't understand what the issue was, that annoyed me even more. "If we'd have called, would you have picked up?" Dean asked him.

Before he had a chance to answer, the light flicked on, the three of us turning to the doorway in unison. A pretty blonde girl stood to the side of the room, her fingertips slowly moving away from the light switch. "Sam?" She questioned, looking between the three of us curiously.

"Jess, hey. Uh, Dean, Max, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." Dean gave an appreciative nod towards her.

"Wait, your brother and sister?" Jess smiled at us brightly. She was insanely pretty, apparently Sam hadn't done too bad for himself after all.

Sam nodded slowly as Dean took a step towards her, a grin spreading over his face as he took in her outfit. "I love the smurfs." He said lightly, pointing at her cropped t-shirt. I rolled my eyes at him and smiled, he wasn't even shy about flirting with his brother's girlfriend. "You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league."

"Just let me put something on." Jess said as she turned to walk away, stopping at Dean's voice.

"No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously." He said casually, moving back towards Sam without taking his eyes from her. "Anyway, we gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you."

"No." Sam answered flatly, his gaze moving from Dean to me, his expression hard. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her." He said, moving towards her and placing an arm around her shoulders.

Dean looked over his shoulder at me for an answer, receiving nothing more than a small shrug. How the hell was I supposed to know what he should say? "Uh, dad hasn't been home in a few days." He said, looking Sam straight in the face.

Sam didn't seem phased by Dean's statement, his expression still stony. "So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

I shook my head at him, he hadn't seen the guy in like four years and he was still butting heads with him. I took a step forwards, looking at him seriously. "Sam, dad's on a hunting trip." I said earnestly. "And he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam's expression changed completely at that, he looked from me to Dean, whose eyes were still fixed on him. "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside." He didn't look impressed.

I looked over at Dean who simply shook his head at me, apparently as lost as I was. Dean and I both followed Sam out of the apartment and into the hallway, me dropping to the back, I had absolutely no desire at all to have this argument with Sam."Whatever this is, Dean, it's not gonna happen." Sam said once we were heading down the stairs.

Dean walked a little faster, getting ahead of him. "Sam-" He began, his tone hard.

"No," Sam cut in. "-I mean, come on, you can't just break in, middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you."

"You're not hearing me, Sammy." Dean said. "Dad's missing. We need you to help us find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine." Dean stopped at that, finally turning to face our brother.

"Not for this long." He was right, and Sam should've known that. Dad never went off for so long without saying so. "Now are you gonna come with me or not?"

"I'm not."

"Why not?"

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

"Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad." Dean answered, starting down the stairs again.

Sam huffed a breath and followed. "Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45."

Dean stopped at the door leading to the front street. "Well, what was he supposed to do?"

"I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark."

"Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there."

"Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her." Dean looked away from him for a second. "But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find."

"We save a lot of people doing it, too."

Sam paused, shaking his head. "And what about Max? What, you think that the way we grew up was healthy for her, for any of us?"

"There is nothing wrong with Max." Dean answered, his voice a little more forceful than it should have been, if Sam hadn't been so into this argument right now, I would have been worried about him picking up on that.

"You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Dean rolled his eyes at that, slamming open the door and heading out onto the street. "The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors."

"So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?"

"No. Not normal. Safe."

"And that's why you ran away." Dean concluded.

"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." Sam didn't say anything. Shocker. "We can't do this alone."

I felt like arguing that point myself, the three of us all knew damn well that we could do this without him. Instead, I kept my mouth shut, moving to lean against the edge of the Impala, my arms folded over my chest. "Yes you can." Sam answered.

"Yeah, well, we don't want to." I noticed Dean avoided looking at me as he said that.

Sam's eyes flickered from Dean's face to mine. I kept my gaze fixed on the floor, knowing Sam wasn't stupid. He knew by that statement Dean meant he didn't want us doing this alone, Sam didn't believe that extended to me. He sighed heavily and looked down for a second, thinking it over. He looked back up at Dean who was staring at him expectantly. "What was he hunting?"

Dean smiled slightly and walked around the car, opening the trunk followed by the spare compartment beneath, revealing the variation of weapons and guns in there. He propped it open with a shotgun before beginning to look through the trunk. "Alright, let's see, Maxie, where the hell did I put that thing?" He muttered, seemingly more to himself than me.

"No worries, Dean, it's probably right next to your brain." I said brightly. "Oh wait, now you'll never find it."

Dean looked up from the trunk and shook his head at me, a small smirk on his face. "So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Sam asked, looking over Dean's shoulder into the trunk.

"We were working our own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans."

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"

"I'm twenty-six, dude. Besides, we can manage to keep each other alive." Dean said lightly as he pulled some papers from a folder. "Alright, here we go. So dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy," He paused as he handed a sheet of paper to Sam. "-they found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA."

Sam glanced down at the paper, a printout of an article headlined, 'Centennial Highway Disappearance', and the picture of a young guy underneath it. Sam read over the article and glanced up. "So maybe he was kidnapped."

"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April." Dean tossed down another paper for each date he mentioned. "Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years." He reached out and took the paper from Sam before shoving them all back into the folder. "All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road." He stopped as he pulled another bag from the trunk. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough. Then I get this voice mail yesterday." He grabbed a tape recorder and pressed play, a staticky message beginning to play, the signal clearly breaking.

"Dean," I still got chills every time I had to listen to this stupid recording, it didn't sound like dad, he sounded more concerned, more worried, not like the stong, confident voice I remember dad to have. "..something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger." Dean glanced up at his brother as he stopped the tape.

"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam said.

"Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shook his head at him. "Alright. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got."

He pressed play again, this time the sound of a woman's voice coming through. "I can never go home.." Dean stopped the tape again.

"Never go home." Sam repeated slowly.

Dean dropped the recorder, closing the trunk of the Impala before leaning against the edge beside me. "You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing."

Sam looked away from us and sighed. "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him." Dean nodded at him. "But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here."

"What's first thing Monday?" Sam turned back to us at his question.

"I have this.. I have an interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it."

"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?" Dean repeated with a smirk.

Sam ignored him. "So we got a deal or not? He asked.

Dean didn't answer as Sam turned and walked away from us. "I can't believe you're doing this." I muttered, pushing myself up from the Impala and walking around to the passenger door.

"Doing what?"

"Dragging him back in. Dean, he doesn't want this."

"Look, Maxie, I get you're still mad but-"

"Dean, that's nothing to do with it. He got out once, we shouldn't be here to drag him back in."

"Hey, like he said, he's back Monday. It's just a weekend."

"It's never just a weekend, Dean. You know that."

Dean sighed and climbed into the car. This wasn't fair. I glanced up at the apartments. Sam was probably up there lying to his girlfriend about where he was going, he shouldn't have to do that. He walked away and he was happy, that's where he should have stayed. I shook my head to myself and climbed into the Impala beside Dean, pulling the door closed with a little more force than was needed. "Before Sam comes out," Dean began slowly, I knew where this was going, and I hated it. "-have you taken your meds today?" He asked me, obviously trying to hide all aspects of accusation from his voice, we both already knew the answer.

"Dean-" I went to protest, getting no further before Dean cut me off again.

"Max." He sighed sadly, looking me in the eyes. "Just, please, tell me the truth. Have you taken them?"

"Dean, I don't want to."

"I know you don't want to, Maxie-" He looked lost, he looked freaked out and he looked hurt. "You scare the hell out of me sometimes, you know that? Just, for me, take them for at least a couple of weeks, yeah? Please?"

"Sure." I whispered, I could feel tears building up and I didn't even understand why. "Dean, can you, uh.." I ran a hand over my face and composed myself. "Please don't tell Sam."

"I won't." He looked down at me, his expression soft, and placed a hand over one of mine, squeezing it softly and placing his other arm around my shoulders. "We'll get through this, alright, me and you. We'll take this weekend, and then we'll take Sam home and he'll be safe. Then we'll find dad and before you know it it'll be right back to me and you hunting together where the biggest problem we have is who gets the last slice of pizza."

I nodded slowly, a small smile forming on my face. "I still stand by the fact that was my pizza."

"Yeah, in your dreams." He grinned and ruffled my hair, letting go of me just before Sam climbed into the backseat of the car. This was going to be an interesting weekend.

* * *

_Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you like it so far, please leave a review and let me know what you thought? :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**The next day, Impala, 12:34PM. **

Honestly, this had been nothing but awkward since it started. Sam and Dean had sat in the car, saying nothing more to each other than what was necessary, talking about Jericho, the job we were taking, dad. Not once had Dean asked Sam about college, his girlfriend, his life. Not once had Sam asked about us, about hunting, about what we'd been doing the past four years. And not once had I made any attempt to change that. I couldn't be bothered, I didn't understand why, after all this time, all these years, all the calls Sam had ignored, not missed- calls that he had seen and _chosen_ not to answer, why the hell should I make yet another attempt to talk. So I sat in the backseat of the car, headphones in and pretending like I couldn't hear the conversation they were having. About me. It wasn't until I noticed Dean glance over his shoulder at me, obviously making sure that I was oblivious to what was being said, that I turned down the volume on my music and decided to pay attention. "..and it doesn't help that you keep staring at her like you do. You're looking at her like you're looking at a ghost." Dean was saying, I hadn't even noticed. Then again, I had been doing anything I could to avoid looking Sam in the face.

"I don't know, Dean. She just seems, different." So Sam had noticed, crap. But I trusted Dean not to say anything, he'd promised he wouldn't. "I don't get it. I mean, have I done something to her?"

I almost scoffed, he was supposed to be the smart one in the car. "Well, it is four years since you've seen her, Sam." Dean answered, he didn't sound mad, his voice was emotionless. "She's grown up a lot since then, she's not just some carefree teenager, she's twenty-two now. I mean, you telling me you haven't changed at all since you've been away?" I watched Sam open and close his mouth a couple of times, he didn't have an answer. Before any of us had a chance to say anything else, Dean pulled over the car. I glanced out of the window at the store to the side of the gas pumps he'd stopped at. I pulled out my headphones and climbed out of the car, stretching my aching muscles. "You alright?" Dean pressed gently, looking over me slowly.

"For the millionth time, Dean, I'm awesome." I muttered, that seemed to be the only thing he ever asked me anymore.

"I know you are, you get that from me." He said lightly, obviously picking up that his constant supervision was getting a little annoying. "I suppose you want something nutritious for breakfast?" He said, an eyebrow raised at me.

"Of course." I smirked. "Something covered in chocolate, I don't really care what."

"Sure." He grinned, heading into the store with a smirk.

I watched him walk away, turning to look at Sam. He was sitting in the passenger seat, the door open and his feet on the ground outside the car. What upset me even more than the fact he'd ignored me, was the fact that he didn't even understand how much that had hurt me. It had killed every time I knew he didn't want to answer the phone, that he didn't want to talk to me. I mean, I understood why he was mad, why he might have needed a couple of weeks away before he could call, but four years? That hurt. And he didn't even realise. "Hey, Max?" He called over to me, sounding unsure that I was going to answer him.

I looked over at him slowly, remaining at the other side of the car. "Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" I knew this had been coming, the excuses, the lame ass apology.

I sighed and looked up at him, stopping as my phone rang from my back pocket. I looked down at the caller ID, Bobby. "Hold that thought," I muttered. "I gotta take this."

* * *

**Sam's P.O.V.**

I looked up as Dean headed towards me, his hands full of junk food. I was now sitting with Dean's box of tapes in my lap, looking through them with a small smile, he never changed. "Hey," Dean called over to me, holding up the food. "-you want breakfast?"

I laughed and shook my head. "No, thanks." Dean shrugged and walked around the car. "So how'd you pay for that stuff? You three still running credit card scams?"

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career." Dean answered as he took a seat in the car, placing the food down between us. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?"

"Uh, Burt Aframian. And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal." Dean actually sounded proud of himself at that.

"That sounds about right." I glanced over at where Max was standing a few feet away from us, still talking on the phone, sighing slightly. "How long is she gonna stay pissed at me?"

Dean shrugged lightly. "C'mon, you can't really blame her, Sam." He said quietly. "You really hurt her."

"I know, and I don't blame her, I just.." I trailed off, looking away from him.

"She'll be alright with you tomorrow, you'll see." Dean looked over at her too, then down at his watch. "I'll tell you one thing that hasn't changed about her, she still doesn't shut up." Dean smiled, there was a hint of fondness in it, I could see more than ever, they really were like best friends now. Dean climbed out of the car and made his way over to her, his hands in his pockets. He watched her talk on the phone for a minute or so before she handed it to him, whoever it was having a quick talk with Dean before they hung up.

I sighed to myself as I watched them, feeling a pang of jealousy in my chest. I watched as Dean threw an arm around Max's neck from behind, holding her in a headlock and ruffling her hair. I watched as Max laughed and elbowed Dean in the stomach, turning to face him and shoving him in the shoulder with a smirk, calling him some silly insult which had him smirking harder and rolling his eyes at her. It was only now, watching them, that I realised how much I'd missed out on since I'd left. I'd never wanted to cut them out of my life, or to make them feel as though I hadn't wanted to be with them, I didn't know how that had happened. I knew if I could go back, I'd have answered everyone of Max's phone calls, or I'd have called Dean and tried to explain that it hadn't been anything to do with him when I'd gone. But it was too late to go back and change things, I'd made this mess, it was my fault that things had ended up like they had.

Dean climbed into the drivers seat again, Max sitting behind him. "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection." I said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Dean frowned slightly. "Why?"

I rolled my eyes. "Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two.. Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" I held up a different tape for every band I mentioned, Dean grabbing the third and slotting the tape into the player. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"Well, house rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." He said brightly as he tossed the tape box back onto the pile and started the car.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old. It's Sam, okay?"

"Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud." He said over the music, pulling out of the gas station and heading off down the road.

I didn't care what they said, something was going on. They were both tense, especially Max, like they had something going on that they didn't want me to know about. It was like when were teenager and they were in a fight, when dad came home they'd pretend everything was fine but he could always see the tension between them a mile off. I knew something was going on, but I wasn't sure what. It didn't seem like they'd been fighting, they seemed to be getting along better than ever. Max was different too, and it wasn't just that she'd grown up. Under her smile and front that she seemed to have had up since I'd arrived, she seemed defeated. I'd noticed their hushed conversations about something, and if Dean was taking the time to argue with her about it at any opportunity he could find, I was guessing it was important.

* * *

**Max's P.O.V.**

I glanced out of the window and sighed as we passed the 'JERICHO 7' sign, closing my eyes and going back to listening to Sam talk on the phone. He finished his conversation that I hadn't really been paying attention to and closed his phone. "All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue." Sam said lightly. "So that's something, I guess."

"Check it out." I opened my eyes again at Dean's voice and followed his gaze to the bridge ahead of us. Dean pulled over the car as we got close enough, the three of us taking a long look out of the window before Dean turned off the engine. There were police scattered about over the bridge, surrounding the car parked in the center. Dean opened the glove compartment and pulled out a box, opening it on his lap and looking through the dozens of ID cards with he and my faces on them. He pulled out a couple of them, holding one over his shoulder to me, before grinning over at Sam. "Let's go." He said lightly. Sam stared at him for another couple of seconds before climbing out of the car and following Dean towards the police, me beside him. "You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Dean said to one of the officers casually as we walked towards them.

The officer looked up as Dean spoke, raising his eyebrows. "And who are you?"

Dean and I flashed our badges at him. "Federal marshals." I smiled.

He looked between the three of us skeptically. "You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you?

Dean laughed. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you." He answered. "You did have another one just like this, correct?" He asked again as he moved closer to the car.

"Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that."

"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam asked lightly, watching Dean as he looked into the car.

The officer nodded at him. "Town like this, everybody knows everybody."

I watched as Dean circled the car, looking around slowly and apparently not seeing anything to interest him. "Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?" I asked.

"No. Not so far as we can tell."

"So, what's the theory?" Sam pressed curiously.

"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean said.

I covered the small laugh that escaped me with a cough, while Sam stamped on Dean's foot with his. "Thank you for your time." He muttered, forcing a smile. "Gentlemen." The three of us turned to walk away, Dean in the middle. He looked over his shoulder before reaching up and smacking Sam in the back of the head. "Ow." He complained. "What was that for?"

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?" Dean argued.

"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?"

Dean stepped in front of Sam, stopping him from walking any further. "Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." Sam and I cleared our throats at the same time, nodding to the space behind Dean where the Sheriff and two FBI agents were now standing.

"Can I help you three?" He asked, looking between us.

"No sir, we were just leaving." Dean answered, nodding at the agents as they passed. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully." I smiled at that, following Dean back to the car.

"Now what?" I asked.

"I dunno, maybe talk to the guys girlfriend?" Sam suggested. "I heard them talking about her before we got there."

"Sounds like a plan." Dean agreed, climbing into the Impala.

* * *

**Jericho Bridge, California. 11:41AM.**

That night, we headed back to the bridge we'd been on earlier that day. We'd spoken to the missing guy's girlfriend, we'd done research, yet we still had no clue what was going on. I sighed lightly in the cool air as I followed Sam and Dean further up the bridge, this whole hunt bothered me. None of it made sense. If dad was here, we should've run into him by now, the town was small, not that many places he could be. Honestly, I didn't think he was here. "So this is where Constance took the swan dive." I looked up at Dean's voice, seeing him peering over the edge of the railing where the 'ghost hitchhiker' or whatever was going on, was said to have jumped.

"So you think dad would have been here?" Sam asked, looking over at Dean.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him." Dean muttered as he continued walking up the bridge, Sam following him. I sighed and dragged my feet after them, my hands shoved into the pockets of my jacket as I tried to focus on something other than the freezing night air.

"Okay, so now what?" Sam pressed, he was getting impatient and we both knew it.

"Now, we keep digging until we find him, might take a while."

Sam stopped walking at that. "Dean, I told you, I've gotta be back by Monday-"

Dean turned around to face him. "Monday. Right, the interview." He smirked slightly. "Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" This was heading towards an argument, Dean was finally saying what he'd been holding in since we'd left Stanford.

"Maybe," Sam shrugged. "-why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

Sam took a step closer to him. "No, and she's not ever going to know."

"Well, that's healthy." I muttered under my breath.

I don't even think Dean heard me, the two of them usually forgot I existed when they got into their little arguments. Sam turned to reply, stopping as Dean spoke up again. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are." He said lightly as he turned and carried on walking again, Sam following him.

"And who's that?"

"You're one of us."

Sam walked faster to get ahead of Dean, he was ready for an argument now, I could see it in his face. "No, I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility to-"

"To dad?" Sam cut him off. "-and his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."

I saw the anger rise in Dean's face at that. Sam should've known better than to mention mom to him, especially in that way. Stuff like that made Dean see red. He grabbed him by the collar and shoved him up against the railings of the bridge with a thud, staring him straight in the face. "Don't talk about her like that." He warned, pushing himself off Sam and heading back towards me. He stopped suddenly, staring off somewhere behind me. "Guys." He said, never moving his eyes. I stopped for a second, turning around and seeing what he meant. A pretty, dark-haired girl in a white dress stood on the edge of the bridge. She glanced over at us for a moment before stepping over the edge. The three of us ran to the railings, looking over and seeing nothing. "Where'd she go?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." We all turned at the sound of the Impala's engine starting, the headlights shining over us brightly.

"What the-" Dean began.

"Who's driving your car?" Sam asked.

Dean pulled the keys from his pocket and held them up, waving them a little. I jumped as the car started, driving right at us. Instinct took over, the only thing we could do, turn and run. "Go, go!" I heard Sam yell, like we were going to do anything else. I could see the light becoming brighter and brighter on the road ahead of us, no matter how fast the three of us were, we were kidding ourselves if we thought we had a chance outrunning a car. I looked to my left where Sam and Dean were apparently thinking the same thing as me. We all ran towards the edge of the bridge, grabbing a hold of the railings before throwing ourselves over the edge. I heard the engine on Dean's car stop, everything completely silent for a moment. For a second I thought my arms were going to rip from my shoulders as I hit the side of the bridge, getting a harder grip on the railing and trying to ignore the fact that I was holding on for my life here, the sickening thought that there was nothing beneath me except a very, very long drop. And Dean. I looked around, seeing Sam holding onto the railing beside me, no sign of Dean. Sam seemed to notice too, looking down. "Dean?! Dean!" He yelled, I looked around frantically, finally seeing him crawl out of the muddy water, collapsing on his back.

"What?!" He yelled back, sounding more than annoyed than hurt.

"Hey, are you okay?!" I yelled.

Dean held up an A-OK sign before dropping his arm back to his side tiredly. "I'm super." He muttered. I laughed in relief and pulled myself up, pushing myself back up onto the bridge and rolling my shoulders slowly with a groan.

Sam walked up beside me, looking around slowly. "Max, why do you do this?"

I paused for a second, not sure what he meant. "Why do I do what?"

"Hunt." Here we go. I knew this was coming, from the second we left stanford I knew this speech was coming. "Why do you do it?"

I shrugged, honestly I'd never really put much thought into it. "Why not?" I countered.

"Max-"

"Sam, we can't all be straight A students, we can't all just bail and run away to college whenever we decide that we've had enough."

"That's not what I meant." He said calmly.

"Right, 'cause running away is what you're good at. I'm good at hunting, that's why I do it."

"Max, you got something to say to me?" He asked, his tone becoming defensive. "I mean, am I supposed to have done something to you?"

I scoffed at that comment. "You really have to ask?"

"Yeah, I do, because I remember one of the last things you saying to me the night I left, was that you weren't mad. Hell, Max, you encouraged me to go."

"Maybe, but you know what I remember you saying to me? I'm not leaving you, I promise to stay in touch."

"Max, listen-"

"I don't wanna hear it Sam. You left, you didn't call, I'm sure you had a reason. Hell, knowing you, you probably had ten. But I'm done with it okay, we're done." I shook my head, turning at the sound of footsteps behind me. "You're alive." I said lightly as Dean walked towards us. He was covered in, I don't know what he was covered in, I didn't want to know.

"Looks like." He said flatly.

I smirked at him. "Congratulations."

"Thanks. That uh, means a lot, really."

I grinned and took a step towards him, smacking him in the arm. "Dude, you idiot. Why the hell didn't you grab onto something?"

"Now come on, Maxie, where's the fun in that?"

"Do you at least remember what you were doing the day they were passing out common sense?"

Dean rolled his eyes at me. "You wish you had my brains." I didn't answer as I followed him where he was heading towards the Impala. He wasted no time in opening the hood, inspecting it closely.

"Your car all right?" Sam asked after a few minutes. Dean nodded and closed the hood, finally satisfied that there was no damage done.

"Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems alright now." He shook his head and leaned against the edge of the Impala. "That Constance chick, what a bitch!" He yelled.

"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the job go from here, genius?" Sam asked. Dean threw his arms up in frustration, then flicked the mud from his hands. Sam sniffed, then looked over to Dean. "You smell like a toilet."

* * *

**Motel, 01:27AM. **

We headed straight from the bridge to a motel, heading into the reception room casually, smiling at the guy behind the desk like one of us wasn't covered head to toe in mud. Dean dropped a credit card down onto the book infront of him and looked up at the guy. "One room, please?"

They clerk looked the three of us up and down slowly, narrowing his eyes at the card. "You guys having a reunion or something?" He questioned.

"What do you mean?"

"I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month." Dean looked back at me and Sam.

"And which room was that again?" I asked him with a smile.

"Uh," He glanced down at his book and frowned. "-room twelve."

"Thanks." I muttered as we turned and left the room, heading towards dad's room. Dean and I stood outside while Sam picked the lock. This whole thing terrified me, I was literally holding my breath, scared of what we might find in there. I prayed to god that it'd be dad, instinct telling me otherwise. When did we ever get so lucky? I heard the lock eventually click behind us, turning and following Sam into the room. He reached past me and grabbed Dean by the shoulder, pulling him inside with us and closing the door over. I looked around the room slowly, everything in the room seemed to have some sort of papers or research covering it. There were books scattered around the room, papers and junk everywhere.

"Whoa." Sam said quietly, walking further into the room. Dean flipped on the light by the bed and picked up a half eaten burger, sniffing it and recoiling quickly. I remained still as I watched Sam step over a line of salt on the floor.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least." Dean commented. Sam bent down and touched the salt on the floor, looking up at us.

"Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in." That didn't sound like him. Our dad didn't fear the supernatural, the supernatural feared our dad.

I looked up at the wall, narrowing my eyes at the research. Nothing made sense here. "What have you got there?" Sam asked, coming up behind me.

"Centennial Highway victims." I said quietly, looking between the different victims.

Dean stepped forwards too, looking over the wall with us. "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs-" I heard Sam move away from us. "-ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

Sam flicked on another lamp behind us. "Dad figured it out."

We both turned to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white."

Dean looked back to the photos of Constance's victims. "You sly dogs." He remarked, turning back to Sam. "All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

"She might have another weakness."

"Well, Dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

"No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband." He said, tapping the picture of her husband on the news article we'd seen earlier in the library. "If he's still alive."

"Alright. Why don't you two, uh, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna get cleaned up." He muttered as he turned towards the bathroom.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam called out to stop him. Dean stopped and turned back. "What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry."

Dean held up a hand to stop him. "No chick-flick moments."

Sam laughed and nodded. "All right. Jerk."

"Bitch."

I couldn't help but find myself smiling slightly at that. I'd missed the way they used to get along, the way they'd laugh and joke around, one of the few things that we did that was like a normal family. I turned my back to Sam as I heard Dean close the bathroom door, I knew what was about to come. We were both silent for a few minutes, Sam being the first to break it. "Max, please, just listen to me for a minute."

I shook my head. I couldn't face having this argument with him, not now. "I told you, I don't want to have this conversation." I muttered, turning to face him. "Look, let's just get through this weekend and you can go right back to your perfect little life, pretending like we don't exist."

"Oh come on, it was never like that and you it."

"Oh really? Because I'm pretty sure that it was."

Sam sighed. "Why are you being like this?"

"Why am I being like this?" I repeated slowly. "What, why am I ignoring you? Gee, I don't know, Sam, what possible reason could anyone have for ignoring their sibling? Because I can't think of one."

"I wasn't ignoring you, I-"

"You were damn too ignoring us. When you picked up your phone, and chose not to answer it, that's called ignoring someone, Sam. And when you do that for four years, that's called cutting your family out of your life." I was getting angry now, four years of frustration coming out at once.

"Four years? I may not have called you, but it's a two-way street, Max. I don't remember the last time you tried calling me either."

"Are you kidding me? I called you every night for weeks, you never picked up. Four years, Sam, and I didn't hear from you once."

He stopped at that, looking down sadly. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, you're sorry? Well, that's just- that's just great, really." I shook my head and breathed out a small laugh. ''You know what, just forget it.''

I shook my head and dropped down onto the bed, rubbing my eyes. I was exhausted, I hadn't slept in almost three days, and it was beginning to kick in. I yawned quietly and closed my eyes for a minute, trying to relax. I didn't even realise when I fell asleep.

* * *

**Motel room, 10:29AM. **

I blinked open my eyes as Dean headed out of the bathroom, giving me a small smile. "You okay?" He asked lightly. "Don't think I've ever known you sleep so long."

I rolled my eyes and pushed myself to sit up in bed, pushing the covers that either Sam or Dean had draped over me off and getting to my feet. I headed to the bathroom, realising that I was being closely followed by Dean. He closed the door behind himself, looking down at me. "Don't even start with me, Dean." I muttered, splashing some cold water over my face.

He pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket and took out two of them, placing them into my hand with a glare. "No more arguments, you're taking them."

"Dean-"

"Look, you can either take them now, or we can go out there and have this chat in front of Sam. It's up to you."

"Dean, I don't need them. You think that I do because some d-bag doctor put some stupid ideas into your head. I say I don't, and since when do you take the word of anyone over mine?"

"I don't, I never do. But on this occasion, I think I'll go with the doctor."

"Alright, fine, you win." I muttered, taking the pills. Dean nodded slowly and turned to leave the bathroom. The second he closed the door behind himself, I spat them out into the sink, rinsing them away with the tap. I looked up at myself in the mirror, shaking my head slowly. I hated them, they made me feel depressed, and crappy, and exhausted. They didn't work, whether Dean thought I needed them or not. I wasn't taking them.

I left the bathroom a few minutes later to find Sam sitting on the end of the bed, looking to be checking his voicemail, while Dean sat at the table, uninterestedly looking over some of dad's research. He picked up his jacket and crossed the room. "I'm starving, gonna grab some food at that diner down the street, Max, you coming?"

I looked up at him, Sam had obviously heard us arguing from the bathroom, which meant the second one of us was alone with him, we were in for a game of twenty questions. "Yeah, sure." I answered,picking up my own jacket and following him towards the door.

"Sam? You want anything?" Dean asked before we left.

Sam shook his head at him. "No."

"You sure?" He grinned and waved his fake credit card. "Aframian's buying." He coaxed.

Sam simply shook his head again. "Alright." He muttered in defeat. "Let's go." Dean pulled on his jacket as we left the motel room and walked out onto the parking lot. I looked up at him as he nudged me in the arm, following his eyes to where the motel owner we'd checked in with was talking to a couple of police officers from the earlier on the bridge. The motel owner looked over and pointed at us, Dean turning away and pulling out his phone, I assumed to call Sam. "Dude, five-oh, take off." He said quickly, waiting for a response. "Uh, they kinda spotted us, go find dad." He finished and hung up the phone, shoving it into his pocket as he turned to face the two officers in front of us. I rolled my eyes as he grinned at them, looking between them innocently. "Problem officers?"

"Where's your partner?"

"Partner? What, what partner?"

One of the officers glanced over his shoulder before pointing towards the motel room, indicating for his partner to head over there. Dean looked down at me for a second, visibly fidgeting. "So, fake US Marshals? Fake credit cards. You got anything that is real?"

"My boobs." Dean said with a grin. I couldn't help but laugh at that, he was just so stupid sometimes it was funny. Literally within three seconds of that comment, we were both faced down against the hood of the police car being told that we had the right to remain silent.

* * *

**One hour later, Jericho police station. **

This was seriously getting ridiculous. Not only had they left us sitting in the back of separate police cars for ten minutes, they'd then taken twenty minutes to get us to the police station and then left me sitting alone while they took Dean wherever they took him. By the time I'd been brought in, booked, had my fingerprints and mug shot taken, I was ready to kill the next person that looked at me wrong. The sheriff appeared in the doorway of the room I was being kept in, looking over at the deputy watching me. "Bring her in." He said casually. I sighed and followed his lead towards the room, finding Dean sitting at the table, looking bored. "We've got a couple of questions for you." The sheriff said simply, the hint of a smug smirk on his face.

I glanced over my shoulder at Dean who was glaring at the sheriff. "Fine." I muttered, not seeing what could be so hard we couldn't lie our way out of it.

"Okay, how about we start with something easy?" He smiled. "What's this guys name?"

Crap. We were screwed. I noticed the second he'd asked me that, Dean had begun tapping out some rhythm on the table. "Uh, what kind of question is that?" I asked incredulously, trying to buy a few more seconds as I listened intently to Dean. I smirked to myself as I recognised the song. "His name's Ted Nugent."

He looked pissed off at that. "Sit down."

I took a seat beside Dean and looked between them. "I'm not sure the two of you realize just how much trouble you're in here." The sheriff said seriously.

"We talkin', like, misdemeanor kind of trouble or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall." Dean looked away for a second. "Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. Boy, you and your girlfriend here are officially suspects."

"That makes sense. Because when the first one went missing in '82 I was three. And my _sister _here, wasn't even born yet."

"I know you've got partners. One of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing.. So tell me. Dean, Max," The sheriff tossed a brown journal to the table in front of us, the bang making us both jump a little. "-this his?" We both stared at it, lost for words. I didn't move as the Sheriff opened it, flipping through the pages towards the back. "I thought those might be your names, you see, I leafed through this, what little I could make out- I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy." Dean leaned forward for a closer look. "But I found this, too." He opened the journal to a certain page, a sheet of paper there reading; 'Dean, Max, 35-111'. Dean and I looked between each other, he looked lost, confused, afraid, the same way I assumed I looked. "Now, you're both going to sit there until one of you tells me exactly what the hell that means." Dean sat back in his chair, looking up at him cluelessly, like he had no idea what he was talking about.

Sure enough, after having an argument with Dean, the sheriff had given up asking the same question over and over again. The three of us then sat there for what felt like forever without any of us speaking, the sheriff staring at us impatiently. The awkward, tense silence was eventually broken by a soft knocking at the door. A young officer stuck his head around the door, looking from us to the Sheriff. "Sheriff, can we borrow you for a few minutes."

He sighed and looked back to us. "You better come up with a good story, or so help me god, I'll lock you both up until you do." He threatened, getting to his feet and crossing the room.

Dean released a long sigh as the door slammed closed. "Well, he sure ain't coming back for a while." He muttered.

"Dean, what the hell?" I said slowly, my eyes fixed on the book in front of us.

He reached forwards and pulled the journal a little closer, flicking through a couple of pages at random. "I dunno, Maxie. It's not like him to leave this anywhere."

"Dean, I think you were right. I think he's in trouble. I mean, I'm really worried about him."

"I know, me too. But let's just work on getting out of here, and then we'll find him, alright? Trust me."

"Yeah, I know we will." I watched him for a few minutes, there was a small, concentrated frown on his face. "What are you thinking so hard about?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"Huh?" He seemed to snap out of his thoughts, leaning back in his chair. "I was just thinking," He began slowly, still sounding in deep thought. "-sometimes, I think maybe I should've told you that you could've gone too, ya know?"

I frowned in confusion. "Gone where?"

"To college, like Sam. I mean, he always knew that he wanted something more than this life.. I never let you believe that you could too."

"Dean, I don't know if it escaped your notice but I wasn't exactly the same kind of student as Sam. I didn't exactly have the right grades to get a full ride to college."

"Yeah, and whose fault is that?"

I paused and frowned. "Uh, mine?"

"I was in charge of you, Max. I let you bunk off when you couldn't be bothered or you hadn't done your homework. I never told dad when you got suspended.. I could have pushed you to work."

I looked up at him sadly, he always blamed himself for everything, anything that wasn't his fault, he still put it on himself. "You could have.. But think of all the fun times we'd have missed out on if I'd have always been in school."

He rolled his eyes. "Like what?"

"Like getting suspended together so we could sit and watch bad movies til Sam came back or, I dunno, remember that time we stole that car from the motel and just spent the day driving around different burger stores." Dean smiled to himself as he thought back, we really were idiots sometimes. "School was never my thing Dean. Just like it wasn't yours."

"I know. It just winds me up sometimes that you could have done anything.. Instead you're stuck driving around with me."

"Ah, don't sell yourself short, Dean. You're not a bad person to road trip with." I smirked at him.

"Thanks." He muttered. "Hey, speaking of Sam, you ever gonna forgive him?"

I thought about it for a second and nodded slowly. "Course I am, I just, I don't know-"

He opened his mouth to answer, stopping himself as the sheriff returned to the room. "I want an answer, and I want one now." He said impatiently.

"I don't know how many times I gotta tell you. It's my high school locker combo." Dean said, his voice remaining upbeat, despite how pissed off he was clearly becoming.

"We gonna do this all night long?" He stopped and looked over towards the door as the same officer as before leaned into the room.

"We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford Road." He said quickly.

The sheriff sighed and looked between us. "Either of you have to go to the bathroom?"

"No." We both answered at the same time.

"Good." He pulled out some handcuffs and cuffed us both to the table before leaving us there.

I watched as Dean reached out and pulled a paperclip from dad's journal, looking at it for a second before smirking at me. Within a couple of minutes he'd managed to pick the locks on both of our wrists. "Let's get out of here." He said quietly, grabbing dad's journal from the table before looking out of the glass window in the door, ducking aside as someone passed. We waited a few minutes behind the door before we were sure the office was completely clear, and then ducked out of the room, running towards the fire escape. By the time we got outside, it was dark outside, the air becoming cooler and the sky turning a dark grey. Dean ran out ahead, pausing at the top of the ladder heading down to the road. "You got this?" He asked, looking back over his shoulder at me before he made a move.

"Yeah, go." I said, breathing out in the cold air, following him down the ladder. "Dean, we need to find Sam." I said as we walked casually out onto the street.

"Right." He muttered, looking around slowly. Neither of us had phones, they'd been confiscated at the police station and we hadn't bothered to steal them back. He nodded over the road, indicating a phone booth. I followed him, standing in the doorway while he dialed Sam's number. "Hey, have a look through that, see if dad left anything else." He said while he waited for Sam to answer, holding out dad's journal to me.

"Sure." I took it from him and opened it on the page with the coordinates on it, frowning slightly. I knew as well as Dean did, dad never went anywhere without it, so there must've been a pretty serious reason for him to just up and bail town without taking it with him.

"Fake 911 call, I don't know, Sammy, that's pretty illegal." Dean said down the phone, his tone light, covering up how concerned I knew he really was. "Listen, we gotta talk." He paused while Sam spoke for a few seconds. "Sammy, would you shut up for a second?" Pause. "Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you, he's gone. Dad left Jericho." Dean looked at me, his eyes falling to the journal in my hands. "I've got his journal." I heard the worry in his voice as he said that. "Yeah, well, he did this time." Pause. "Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going." Pause. "I'm not sue yet.. Sam? Sam?!" He yelled down the phone, now looking scared. Before I had a chance to ask him what had happened, he slammed the phone down and grabbed my arm. "C'mon, we gotta go."

I stopped, realising where we were. "What the hell are you planning to do, run five miles and save him?"

"Well do you have a better idea?"

I paused and looked around slowly, my eyes falling to where a couple were climbing out of their car ."Hey, hey, excuse me," I yelled, running across the road towards them. The woman stopped and frowned slightly, looking from me to Dean. "Federal marshals, ma'am, we need to borrow your car." I said, pulling the fake badge from where it remained in my jacket pocket. She sighed lightly, handing me the keys. "We'll bring it back later, don't worry about it."

Dean shot her an awkward smile before climbing into the passenger seat. "Neat trick." He muttered.

"Thanks." I smirked. I drove recklessly down the long road towards the place where dad's research said Constance had lived. As we drove closer towards the house, we saw the Impala parked up outside. We climbed out of the car and walked warily towards it. For a second it looked like there was no one inside, until we heard the pained moan coming from Sam. On instinct, I ran forwards, gun in hand, my actions mirrored by Dean. The ghost made herself visible for a few seconds, turning as Dean fired through the window and obviously straight through her. She vanished and reappeared, vanishing again as he continued firing. "Sammy? You alright?" I called out. I heard him mumble something, I thought more to himself than us, before he put the Impala in drive and drove straight forward through the side of the house. Dean and I stared after the car, not entirely sure on what he was doing. We hurried forwards after him, seeing Sam move sightly behind the wheel. "Sam? You okay?" I asked him, Dean right beside me, a concerned frown on his face.

"I think.." Sam answered slowly, sounding in slight pain.

"Can you move?" Dean pressed.

"Yeah, help me." Dean leaned through the window to give Sam a hand, pulling him out of the car to stand with us.

"There you go." Dean muttered, his voice now calmer. As we turned, Constance glared at us, looking murderous. She threw down the picture she had been holding and moved a desk towards us, pinning us forcefully against the car.

The lights suddenly began to flicker around us, even Constance was now looking scared. Water began to pour down the staircase, a young boy and girl standing at the top, holding each other's hands. "You've come home to us, mommy." They said at the same time. In the time it took me to blink, they were standing behind her, holding her tightly, causing her to scream as she flickered in and out of sight. In a surge of energy, Constance and her two children melted into a pool of water on the floor, leaving the three of us alone. The pressure lifted from the desk pressed against us, now light enough to be pushed away easily.

"So this is where she drowned her kids." Dean stated, looking down at the wet floor.

Sam nodded. "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them."

"You found her weak spot, nice work, Sammy." Dean said lightly, slapping Sam on the chest where the ghost had grabbed him earlier as he walked away.

Sam laughed through the obvious pain, shaking his head. "Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey. Saved your ass." Dean countered as he leaned over to look at his car closely. "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car-" He paused and turned to look at him seriously. "-I'll kill you."

Sam laughed as we followed Dean's lead and climbed into the car. He reversed back onto the road and turned around, heading back down the highway. He put his foot down while Sam pulled out a road map from the glove compartment. He opened it up on his lap, along with dad's journal as he looked for the coordinates with a ruler, a flashlight tucked between his chin and shoulder. "Okay," He began, the first one of us to speak in over ten minutes. "-here's where dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

"Sounds charming." I remarked.

Dean nodded slowly. "How far?"

"About six hundred miles."

"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning." Dean said hopefully.

"Dean, I um.." Sam trailed off, not looking at him.

Dean glanced to the road and back to Sam. "You're not going."

"The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there."

Dean nodded, I could see the disappointment in his face. He returned his attention to the road and sighed lightly. "Yeah, yeah whatever." He glanced back at Sam for a second. "I'll take you home."

Sam turned the flashlight off as Dean drove on, none of us really talking much after that.

We drove in silence for about an hour, I was almost asleep when Dean suddenly swerved into a gas station, the slight jolt waking me up. "Gotta stop for gas." He said lightly, opening the car door. "Sam, fill it up will you, I'm gonna pick up some snacks."

I rolled my eyes at him and leaned back against the window, watching Sam closely. No matter how much I'd spent the weekend trying to convince myself that I didn't care anymore, that we were done, that there was no turning back- I couldn't shake the feeling of complete dread, terror, and pure fear when I'd thought Sam was about to get hurt back on the hunt. I sighed lightly and climbed out of the car, walking around slowly to where he was putting back the pump. "Hey, Sam.." I began slowly.

He looked wary about what I was going to say to him. "Yeah?"

"Your girlfriend, she seems really sweet."

He frowned a little, then smiled. "Thanks, she's uh, she's great."

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said, ya know, I get why you wanted to get away from this life. I shouldn't have said what I did."

"No, you were right. I should've called you. I wish I had."

I nodded slowly. "Well, I guess you can give us a call tomorrow night and let us know how your interview went, right? I'm sure you'll do great."

"Thanks." He smiled at me, the first real smile he'd given me since he'd joined us. "I really missed you, Max." He said quietly.

"Me too, Sammy." I stepped forwards and wrapped my arms around him, breathing out deeply as he returned the hug, holding me tightly. For a minute, I felt okay. Like we hadn't fought at all, like he'd never left, like dad wasn't missing- like we were a family.

"Aw, now isn't that sweet." I rolled my eyes at the sound of Dean's voice and pulled back, a small smile on my face. Sam smirked and climbed back into the Impala, followed by me and Dean.

* * *

**Four hours later, Palo Alto, California. **

Dean pulled up in front of Sam's apartment building, a small frown still remaining on his face. Sam climbed out of the car and leaned over to look through the window. "Call me if you find him?" Dean simply nodded. "And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, alright." Sam patted the car door twice and turned away from us, ready to head back. "Sam?" Dean called after him. Sam stopped and turned back to look at us. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there, the three of us."

"Yeah." Sam said quietly.

Neither of us said anything for a few seconds before Dean put the car in drive and set off down the road. Once we got to the end of the street, I climbed over the back seat and into the passenger seat beside him. He glanced away from the road to look at me and gave a small smile. "Hey, you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Tell you what, how about we head to a bar, have a few beers, then we get a take out and go back to the motel and watch some crappy horror movie, yeah?"

"Sure." I smiled lightly.

"What time is it anyway?"

I looked down at my wrist and frowned. "Uh, my watch stopped."

Dean took his eyes of the road for a second to glance down at his own wrist. "Mine too." We looked between each other slowly, realising something was obviously wrong, without saying anything, Dean turned the car around heading back to Sam's.

We got there to see a few people gathered around outside the building, pointing up at one of the windows where the apartment, obviously Sam's, was clearly on fire. Dean was already running towards the door before I'd even had a chance to think through what was happening. I went to follow him but he stopped and turned to face me. "Stay here." He yelled.

"Dean-"

"Don't you dare, Max." He warned, I could see the pleading look in his eyes. "I'll get him, just don't move, please."

I watched him run into the building, holding my breath as I prayed to god they'd make it back out. Ten minutes of wanting to be sick with fear, worry, desperation- Dean appeared in the doorway, looking as though he was pushing Sam out of the building against his will. He only released the death grip on Sam's jacket when they reached the side of the road.

I looked at Dean, searching his face for an answer. He looked me in the eyes and shook his head slowly, his face remorseful. I looked over at Sam and breathed out sadly, taking a couple of steps towards him and holding his hand with mine. He looked down at me, he looked mournful as he squeezed my hand tightly. "I'm sorry, Sam."

He didn't say anything for a couple of minutes before he let go of my hand and walked away, not looking at me. I sighed, figuring he needed a few minutes, and went over to Dean who was standing with the rest of the people on the street. The fire service were now there, as well as a couple of police cars and an ambulance. He placed an arm around me while we looked on at the fire with everyone else, before we turned away and headed back to the Impala where Sam was standing at the trunk, loading a shotgun. I glanced down at the trunk, and then back to Sam. He looked shattered, broken, his face a mask of desperate anger. He looked up at us and sighed, tossing the shotgun down into the trunk and nodding. "We got work to do." He muttered, his voice determined, as he slammed the trunk closed.

* * *

**Palo Alto, California, motel room, 04:53AM.**

I woke up that night, not even remembering when I'd fallen asleep. I pushed away the thoughts of my nightmare, sitting up in bed slowly and rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand. I jumped a little as my eyes fell to the figure sitting at the table, calming when I realised that it was just Dean. He was sitting at the table, a bottle of whiskey and dad's journal in front of him, the only light coming from the dim lamp in the corner. I paused at the journal for a second, he was close to the beginning, he was reading about mom. "Are you alright?" I asked softly, my voice quiet enough that I wouldn't wake Sam. I climbed out of bed and crossed the room towards him, sitting opposite him and looking over him slowly. "Dean," I pressed, not sure he'd heard me the first time. "-what's wrong?"

Dean shook his head, frowning as he thought about it. "I uh, I don't know." He said slowly.

"Dean?" I glanced down, noticing a photo of mom and dad lying on top of the open journal. "What's going on?"

He finally looked up at me, he looked wrecked. "I saw her, Max, when she-"

I stopped, taking a few seconds before I realised who he was talking about. "Jess?"

"She was-" He paused, whatever it was, he didn't want to say it. "-she was on the ceiling."

"Wait, you don't mean like-" I stopped, staring at him, I couldn't even say it, let alone believe it.

"Exactly like dad described mom. Burning on the ceiling, her stomach cut.." He trailed off, the thought of mom like that obviously too much for him. "It was the same demon, Max, I know it."

"Have you called dad?"

"Yeah, all I got was his voicemail." He answered glumly.

"Poor Sammy." I looked over at him sadly through the darkness. "He didn't deserve this, it shouldn't have happened."

"Yeah, he only managed to get to sleep about half an hour ago. He's not coping well with this, at all." He said slowly, his voice sorrowful. "Poor kid."

"He'll be alright," I said quietly. "We'll get him through this."

* * *

_Aww, poor Sammy :-( SUPER LONG CHAPTER, I'm literally exhausted from writing it, feel like I need to sleep for like a month! Thank you so, so, so much for the lovely reviews and PM's, and for all the favorites and follows and just for taking the time to read, it means so much! Hope I didn't scare you off with the length, feel free to let me know how much you hate me for that if you'd like ;-)  
I know you're all super curious about what's up with Max, but DON'T WORRY! It will be explained, very soon!  
So, another thank you for the support, means the world! And please review, they make me squeal and giggle and want to walk around on rainbows! :D _


	3. Chapter 3

**Impala, one week later. **

"Max, just take the damn pills." Dean said, his tone loud enough to let on that he was getting annoyed, but quiet enough not to wake Sam from where he slept in the backseat of the car.

I sighed heavily. Everyday, the same argument. "I said, I'd do it when we got to a motel." I snapped back, becoming more and more frustrated each time he mentioned it.

He shook his head and shoved the little bottle forcefully into my hand, his eyes never leaving the road ahead, we both knew straight up I was lying. "No, you'll take them now while I can see you do it. I'm not an idiot, Max, I'm not taking you lying about it anymore. Take them."

Dean was right, the arguing and lying was getting old. We both knew full well that I wasn't taking them, and we both knew if it came down to it and we got to a motel room, I still wouldn't take them. I finally looked at him, for the first time in about an hour, his attention momentarily leaving the road for him to shoot a glare my way. "Why?" I pressed, the only argument I could find, my voice not nearly as strong enough as I intended.

"Because-" He stopped and shook his head, I wasn't even sure that he knew anymore. "-you need them."

"For the millionth time, Dean, I don't need them." I looked down at the small bottle in my hands and picked at the label, even the thought of taking them made me feel depressed.

"Max, I'm warning you," His tone was hard now, it wasn't going to be long before he snapped and started yelling. "-don't make me pull this car over." He warned.

I rolled my eyes, I couldn't even be bothered to fight anymore, it wasn't worth it. "Alright, you know what, fine, you win." I pulled the cap from the bottle and took two of the pills while he watched, swallowing them without a drink. I replaced the cap and shoved them back into his hand, looking out of the window. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic." He shot back, matching my pissed off tone with his own. I shook my head, turning away from him and refusing to answer. "Maxie," He began, his tone softer. "-you know I'm only thinking of you here."

I scoffed and opened my mouth to answer, stopping when Sam gasped awake in the backseat. Dean and I glanced between each other before he shoved the pills into the pocket of his leather jacket, something I prayed to god Sam had missed. He blinked hard and rubbed his eyes as he sat up straight. "You okay?" I asked him quietly, looking over him slowly. He obviously wasn't, he was exhausted, grieving and frustrated.

"Yeah," He answered simply, same as always. "-I'm fine."

I nodded slowly, taking the hint that he didn't want to talk about it again. "Another nightmare?" Dean pressed, glancing at him through the rear view mirror for a couple of seconds. Sam cleared his throat, clearly not wanting to give an answer. "You wanna drive for a while?" He offered.

Sam only laughed at that question, looking a little taken aback. "Dean, your whole life you've never once asked me that."

Dean shrugged at him. "Jut thought you might want to, never mind."

"Look, man, you're worried about me, both of you are, I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay."

"Mm-hm." Dean mumbled, neither of us believing him for a second.

Sam picked up the map lying in the space between me and Dean, looking over it slowly. "Alright, so where are we?" He asked, an obvious attempt at changing the question.

I shrugged, I hadn't even been paying attention to where we'd been driving, everything had been a blur. "We are just outside of Grand Junction." Dean answered him lightly.

I shifted in my seat so that my back was leaning against the door. I glanced over the back seat as Sam folded down the map, looking over the large X labelled 35-111 in the center. "You know what, maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon." Sam said quietly, looking as though he was in deep thought when he's said it.

Dean glanced at me for a second, we were both clueless. Neither of us knew how to deal with this, we didn't know what to say to him, we didn't know how to make it any easier on him, we just tried to avoid bringing up the subject completely, figuring if Sam wanted to talk about it, he'd bring it up himself. He'd been pretty quiet the past week, not really talking unless he had to. He hadn't slept more than about an hour at a time, always waking up from some kind of nightmare when he did. "Sam, we dug around there for a week, we came up with nothing." Dean reasoned. "If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica-"

"We gotta find dad first." He concluded.

"Dad disappearing, and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence. Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do."

Sam nodded slowly, looking back down at the map, a small frown on his face. "It's weird man, these coordinates he left us, this Blackwater Ridge.."

"What about it?" I asked him.

"There's nothing there. It's just woods." He put the map down again, looking between us. "Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

Dean shook his head, I simply shrugged, looking back out of the window ahead as we passed a sign; 'Welcome to Lost Creek Colorado National Forest.'

A few minutes later, Dean pulled up the car and climbed out, followed by me and Sam. I wandered into the ranger's station behind them, leaning in the doorway as they walked further inside. "So, Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote." Sam said, looking over a map to the side of the station. Dean didn't seem to be paying attention to him, mostly looking at the various decorations around the small room. "It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place." I sighed at that, hiking through those woods wasn't something I'd been particularly looking forward to in the first place.

"Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear." Dean said lightly, looking intently at a framed photo on the wall.

Sam crossed the room to stand behind Dean, looking over his shoulder at the picture. "And a dozen or more grizzlies in the area, it's no nature hike, that's for sure." He added. Awesome.

I looked up as another guy walked into the room from the back, looking between us slowly. "You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?" He asked, the sound of his voice startling Sam and Dean as they whipped around to face him.

"Oh, no, sir. We're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper." Sam lied, laughing slightly.

Dean grinned and raised a fist. "Recycle, man."

"Bull." I looked over at Dean who didn't move, remaining un-phased. "You're friends with that Haley girl, right?"

I watched Dean think it over for a few seconds before he nodded. "Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger-" He paused, narrowing his eyes towards the ranger's nametag. "-Wilkinson."

"Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?" Dean shook his head. "You tell that girl to quit worrying, I'm sure her brother's just fine."

"We will. Well that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?"

I rolled my eyes at that. "That is putting it mildly." The ranger agreed.

"Actually you know what would help is if we could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date." The ranger eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds before looking over Sam and me. Dean simply raised his eyebrows at him.

"Alright, wait here." He muttered, turning and leaving us alone again.

Dean turned to look at me and smirked to himself. "Look at the excitement on your face, I know how much you love camping, Max."

I shook my head and laughed slightly. "Bite me."

"Not if a grizzly bites you first." He countered, looking impressed with his own lame response.

"You know what, Dean, I hope that whatever it is we're hunting here eats you. Slowly."

Dean laughed at that, straightening his face as the ranger walked back into to the room, holding out a piece of paper towards him. He smiled slightly and took the paper from him, turning and leading the way back outside to the car. "What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?" Sam asked him.

Dean turned and raised an eyebrow. "What d'ya mean?"

He paused as he came to the passenger door, looking over the car at Dean. "The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?"

Dean also stopped, a frown on his face. "I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?"

There was a short pause between them before Sam raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"Since when are you all shoot first ask questions later, anyway?"

"Since now." He answered in a hard voice, climbing into the Impala and slamming the door behind himself.

"Really?" Dean muttered, he glanced over at me for a second, I just shrugged at him. I didn't know what to say to him, or Sam. I climbed into the backseat and sighed lightly, closing my eyes. All I wanted to do was sleep, I felt tired but at the same time my body was wide awake. I tried desperately to block out the bad thoughts swirling through my mind, telling me something bad had happened to dad, or that he was in some kind of trouble. I almost thought I was falling asleep, almost- until Dean reached over the backseat and hit me in the arm.

"Not the time, Maxie." He said brightly, turning off the engine of the car. I looked out of the window at the house Dean had pulled up at, climbing out of the car at the same time as Sam and following Dean up the short path to the door. He knocked a few times and waited a couple of minutes before the door was pulled open. A young, pretty girl answered the door, looking between the three of us warily. "You must be Haley Collins." Dean grinned. "I'm Dean, this is Max and Sam, we're, ah, we're rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over, he wanted us to ask you a few questions about your brother, Tommy."

Haley hesitated for a few seconds, nodding slowly. "Lemme see some ID." Dean and I pulled out our fake IDs and held them up to the clear door separating us. She looked between them, and then to us, before pulling open the screen door. "Come on in."

"Thanks." He smiled.

Haley looked past us towards the street, catching sight of the Impala. "That yours?" She asked, looking up at Dean.

"Yeah."

"Nice car." She said as she turned to lead us into the house. Dean turned to mouth something at Sam, I didn't even want to know what, who simply rolled his eyes.

We headed into the kitchen where another guy, I assumed to be her brother, was sitting at the table on a laptop. "So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?" Sam asked casually.

Haley walked into the room, a bowl in her hand which she placed down on the table. "He checks in everyday by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos- we haven't heard anything in over three days now."

"Well, maybe he can't get a cell reception?" Sam suggested.

"He's got a satellite phone too."

"Could it be that he's just having fun and forgot to check in?" Dean cut in lightly.

"He wouldn't do that." Dean eyed him for a second, until he eventually looked away from him.

"Our parents are gone," Haley continued. "-it's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other." I smiled a little at that, it sounded familiar.

"Can I see the pictures he sent you?" Sam pressed.

"Yeah." She smiled a little and took a seat beside her brother, pulling up some pictures on the laptop. "That's Tommy." She said, pointing at one of the guys in the picture.

"Listen, we'll find your brother." Dean said to her. "We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing."

"Then maybe I'll see you there." We all just looked at her. "Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy, I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself." I nodded slowly, I didn't blame her.

"I think I know how you feel." Dean said vaguely, smiling at her a little.

Dean and I stood towards the side of the room while Haley, Ben and Sam sat at the table, all looking at the video Haley had put up on the laptop. "You're pretty quiet." Dean said to me quietly, looking over me slowly.

"Yeah, well that's what you get when you start giving people mood altering drugs." I muttered, turning away from him. I could feel him watching me, his usual concerned frown on his face. I didn't have the energy to explain myself to him, I didn't have the energy to do much of anything. Since taking them all I wanted to do was go to bed, either that or just be left alone. He'd always complained that I had too much energy, that I talked too much, that I was too happy all the time- and now, I could barely even be bothered to talk. I didn't even feel like myself when I was on them.

I glanced up as Sam got to his feet, nodding towards the door. We both gave a small wave to Haley and Ben before turning to leave. I followed Dean outside, Sam behind me, and dragged my feet towards the Impala. "So, I'm thinking we should go out for a beer." Dean said brightly as he walked around the car, pausing at the door.

I looked up and smirked at him. "Dude, you're always thinking we should go out for a beer."

Dean looked over at me and grinned. "Yeah, head back to the motel, grab some grub and then head out. Might put you two in a better mood for a while, huh?"

* * *

**Bar, 09:23PM. **

I came back from the bar and placed three beers down on the table between us, dropping down into the chair beside Dean and taking a drink. "So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic." Sam was saying to Dean. "Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found."

I raised an eyebrow at him and took another drink. "Any before that?"

Sam opened up dad's journal, I looked away from it, the whole thing still gave me chills. "Yeah," He began, pulling out an old newspaper article and placing it in front of me and Dean. "-in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack." I looked over the article, returning my attention to Sam as he pulled out his laptop. "And again in 1959, and again before that in 1936."

"Huh," I muttered. "-so, every twenty three years there are people vanishing from these woods?"

"Uh-huh." He opened his laptop and turned it around to us. "Okay, watch this. I downloaded that guy Tommy's video, check this out." He pulled up the video and went through three frames, one at a time. I narrowed my eyes slightly as a shadow crossed the back of the tent.

"Do it again." Dean said slowly, leaning forwards to get a better look.

Sam repeated it and looked up at us. "That's three frames, that's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move."

Dean suddenly looked up and smacked Sam on the shoulder. "Told you something weird was going on around here." He said brightly.

"Yeah." He closed his laptop and handed us another newspaper article. "I got one more thing. In '59, one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack, just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive."

We looked over the other news article. "Is there a name?" Dean asked, looking up at Sam.

"Uh, yeah.." He paused for a second before nodding. "-and he doesn't live all that far from here."

Dean and I looked between each other and sighed, finishing our beers.

* * *

**Shaw house, 09:54PM.**

The three of us headed towards the drive, Dean pushing me to the front. "What the hell are you doing?" I muttered.

"It's late, and this guy's old- you look the most innocent out of the three of us." I looked back at him in disbelief and shook my head, reaching out and knocking on the door.

An old man came to the door and looked between us, pulling his cigarette from his mouth and frowning slightly. "Yeah?" He pressed.

"Hi," I began lightly, holding up my fake ID badge to him. "-we're uh, rangers, with the park service. We were hoping to ask you a couple questions about the attack you were involved in as a kid?"

He narrowed his eyes at our badges for a second before nodding. "Sure, come on in." He returned his cigarette to his mouth before he turned and lead the way into his house. "I don't know why you're asking me about this, it's public record, I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a-"

"Grizzly?" Sam interrupted him. "That's what attacked them?"

He nodded slowly, avoiding looking at us. "The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?" Dean pressed, looking at him expectantly when he didn't answer. "What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?" He narrowed his eyes, sighing when he still didn't answer him.

"Mr Shaw," I began quietly. "-if we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it."

"I seriously doubt that." He said flatly, dropping down into a chair. "Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make, you wouldn't believe me, nobody ever did."

Sam sat down across from him and looked at him carefully. "Mr Shaw, what did you see?" He pressed.

He paused for a second before answering. "Nothing." He answered blankly. "It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like, no man or animal I ever heard."

"It came at night?" Sam continued, getting a small nod in response. "Got inside your tent?"

"It got inside our cabin. I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it. Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up till I heard my parents screaming."

"It killed them?"

"Dragged them off into the night." He shook his head. "Why it left me alive, been asking myself that ever since." He paused, moving his hand towards his collar. "Did leave me with this." He pulled down his shirt, showing us three long scars over his shoulder. "There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of demon."

"Okay," Dean said calmly. "-well, we're gonna fix it, alright? We're gonna get rid of it."

"I hope you do."

Sam nodded and got to his feet, giving him a small smile. "Thank you for your time."

I turned and followed Sam and Dean out of the room, pausing at the doorway. "Hey, Mr Shaw-" He looked up at me. "I'm sorry about your parents."

He watched me for a couple of seconds, a small smile forming on his face. "Thank you." I gave him a little smile back before turning and leaving the house, heading back to the Impala.

* * *

**Motel room, 11:01PM.**

"I don't know what the hell we're dealing with here." Dean muttered as we headed into our motel room. "Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors." He stated. "If they want inside, they just go through the walls."

Sam nodded. "So it's probably something else, something corporeal."

"corporeal?" Dean repeated, glancing over at me and raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me, professor."

"Shut up." He muttered. "So what do you think?"

"The claws, the speed that it moves, could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog?" Dean suggested. "Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it."

"We cannot let that Haley girl go out there."

"Oh yeah?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of the big scary monster?"

"Yeah."

Dean looked up at him. "Her brother's missing, Sam. She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend."

"Finding dad's not enough? Now we gotta babysit too?" Dean simply stared at him, slightly taken aback by his tone. "What?" He pressed when Dean didn't answer.

"Nothing." He muttered, heading off towards the bathroom and closing the door a little more forcefully than was needed.

I sighed heavily and dropped down onto one of the beds, pulling off my boots. "You okay, Sam?" I asked, more out of routine now.

"I'm fine, just tired." He answered, his voice was soft, like he'd calmed down again. "Don't worry about it."

"Right," I said lightly, getting to my feet again and pulling off my jacket, tossing it over one of the chairs. I paused beside him for a second and rested a hand on his arm, looking up at him. He gave a small smile, getting what I meant without me having to say it. "I'm gonna crash." I mumbled, heading over to one of the beds and lying down, praying to god that I'd manage to get some sleep.

* * *

**The next morning, 08:45AM.**

Dean pulled up the Impala towards the edge of the woods, Haley, Ben and another guy staring at us as we climbed out. Sam walked around to the trunk and pulled out a duffel bag, throwing it over his shoulder. "You guys got room for three more?" Dean asked brightly.

Haley raised an eyebrow at us. "Wait, you wanna come with us?"

The man standing behind her took a step forwards, narrowing his eyes at us. "Who are they?"

"Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue." She said flatly.

Sam walked past him, the guy raising an eyebrow at me and Dean. "You're rangers?" He asked skeptically.

"That's right." Dean said lightly.

"And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?" Haley added, looking from Dean's boots to mine.

Dean also looked down, a small smile on his face. "Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts."

I laughed to myself as we headed past her, earning us a glare from the guy behind her. "What, you think this is funny?" He asked, his tone serious. "It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt."

Sam turned back, like he was anticipating a fight to break out. "Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be." Dean answered calmly. "We just wanna help them find their brother, that's all." He smiled a little and carried on, walking past me and Sam.

We hiked through the forest, Roy and Dean up ahead, then Haley and Ben, Sam and I at the back. "Roy, you said you did a little hunting." I heard Dean say, a little thankful that someone finally broke the awkward silence.

"Yeah, more than a little."

"Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?"

"Mostly buck, sometimes bear."

Dean headed past him, nodding slowly. "Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?" Roy suddenly grabbed the back of his jacket, the rest of us going tense for a second. "Whatcha doing, Roy?" Dean said, eyeing him curiously.

He picked up a stick, slamming it down into a bear trap right before Dean's boot. "You should watch where you're stepping. Ranger." He said, a smug smile on his face as he carried on.

Dean looked down at it and raised his eyebrows. "It's a bear trap." He stated.

I rolled my eyes and smiled a little, carrying on walking with them. I walked beside Dean, neither of us talking much until Haley caught up with us, a small frown on her face. "You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You're not rangers." She grabbed Dean around the arm and pulled him around to stop us. "So who the hell are you?"

Dean paused and looked between me and Sam, both of us getting the same idea, nodding at him before we continued walking. I briefly heard him begin to explain to Haley who we were, the sinking feeling coming back to me, I didn't think dad was here. In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd have said he was doing all he could to avoid us finding him. I think Dean knew that too, he just didn't want to believe it.

Roy slowed down a little as we came to a clearing. "This is it," He said. "-Blackwater Ridge."

Sam walked past him, looking around slowly. "What coordinates are we at?"

Roy pulled out his GPS and looked down at it. "Thirty five, minus one eleven." He said simply.

I glanced up at Dean who seemed to be thinking the same thing as me. "You hear that?" He said, his voice low enough that only Sam and I heard him.

"Yeah," Sam said slowly. "-not even crickets."

"I'm gonna go take a look around." Roy said as he turned and began to walk away from us.

"You shouldn't go off by yourself." Sam called after him.

"That's sweet." Roy muttered sarcastically. "Don't worry about me." He waved his gun and pushed between us, going on ahead of us. Dean shook his head at him and sighed, turning to Ben and Haley. "Alright, everybody stay together, let's go."

We walked on further, the sound of Roy's voice breaking the long silence between us. "Haley!" He yelled. "Over here!" We all followed her, coming to a halt at the sight before us. There were two tents, both torn open and bloody, camping supplies scattered on the floor around them. "Looks like a grizzly." He stated.

"Tommy?" She yelled, throwing her backpack to the floor and walking further into the campsite. "Tommy?!"

"Sh." Sam whispered, looking around slowly.

Haley turned to him, a worried frown on her face. "Why?"

"Something might still be out here." I watched her, I could see the fear in her eyes. I couldn't even imagine it, the thought that her brother could be dead, I felt awful for her.

"Guys!" Dean's voice called from somewhere behind us. I looked over at Sam before the two of us turned and followed his voice, finding him crouched down looking at something on the floor. Sam crouched down to his level, me leaning over to see. "The bodies were dragged from the campsite." He said, his voice low. "But here, the tracks just vanish."

"That's weird." I muttered, straightening up and looking upwards at the trees.

"I'll tell you what," Dean said as he and Sam rose to their feet. "-that's no skinwalker or black dog."

I jumped at the sound of shouting, the three of us heading back to camp quickly. "Help! Help!" A voice yelled from the trees. Roy walked on further, the rest of us following him closely. "Help! Somebody!"

We came to a stop, looking around slowly. "It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Haley said, her voice concerned. It was quiet, way too quiet.

"Everybody back to camp." Sam said, turning and heading back first. We came back to find all of our stuff gone.

"Our packs." Haley stated, looking around in disbelief.

"So much for my GPS and my satellite phone."

"What the hell is going on?"

"It's smart. It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help."

"You mean someone, some nut job out there just stole all our gear." Roy muttered, clearly annoyed.

Sam came over to me and Dean, looking between us seriously. "I need to speak with you." He muttered. "In private." He added, walking away from the group until we were far enough away that they wouldn't be able to hear us. "Let me see Dad's journal." Dean pulled it from his jacket and handed it to him, both of us watching as Sam flipped through it, seemingly knowing what he was looking for. He stopped and held it out to show us. "Alright, check it out."

I looked down and raised an eyebrow. "Wendigo?" I said, looking up and raising an eyebrow at him.

"Come on, Sam." Dean said. "Wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or, or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west."

Sam remained persistent. "Think about it, guys, the claws, the way it can mimic a human voice."

"Great." Dean muttered, pulling out his gun. "Well then this is useless."

Sam handed Dean back the journal and began walking away, pausing and looking back. "We gotta get these people to safety." He said, walking away from us and back to the others. "Alright, listen up-" He began, getting everyone's attention. "It's time to go. Things have gotten.. more complicated."

"Kid, don't worry." Roy muttered, this was ending in a fight, I could see it coming. "Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it."

"It's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now."

"One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders."

"Sammy," I pressed. "-calm down."

"We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I'm trying to protect you."

Roy stepped forwards, sizing Sam up. "You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night."

"Yeah? It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here."

Roy scoffed. "You know you're crazy, right?"

"Yeah? You ever hunt a wen-" He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence before Dean stepped in, pushing Sam away from him.

"Chill out." Dean warned him, a hand still gripped at the front of his jacket. I'd never seen him like that before. I'd never seen him so tense and wound up, the way he was snapping at almost anything. It was no secret that he wasn't sleeping properly, I didn't even think he was eating all that much.

"Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop." Haley said, clearly frustrated. "Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him."

No one said anything for a couple of minutes. "It's getting late." Dean said calmly. "This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves."

I looked over towards Ben while Dean went into his little speech about Anasazi symbols, he was sitting on a rock, his forehead rested against his palms. "You alright?" I asked, sitting down beside him. "You've been pretty quiet."

"I thought he'd be alive, you know." He said, sounding distant. "And now you're all saying there's this- thing."

"Hey, your brother's only missing, nobody's said that he's dead." He looked up at me, he looked so worried, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. For both of them. They didn't deserve this evil in their lives. "Don't give up hope." I said, I thought more to myself than to him.

* * *

**10:45pm. **

I leaned against one of the trees, my eyes stinging slightly from where they were fixed on the campfire ahead of me, it was now almost pitch black out, the dark woods around us almost impossible to see through. "One more time, that's-" Haley began, looking over at Dean.

Dean looked up from where he was drawing symbols in the dirt around us. "Anasazi symbols." He said simply. "It's for protection. The wendigo can't cross over them." Roy laughed, shaking his head at him. "Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy." He muttered, straightening up and heading over towards me. "What's the matter with you?" He asked quietly.

"You know what's the matter with me." I muttered.

He sighed. "Maxie, I know you don't like them, but if they're gonna help you-"

"But they don't help me, Dean. They make everything seem a million times worse."

He sighed, apparently not having an answer. "You know you can't keep hiding this from Sam, he's not an idiot."

"Look, I'll take the stupid pills, Dean, but we're not telling him, he doesn't need this right now. Besides, I'm not the one I'm worried about right now." Dean's eyes flickered from my face to Sam for a second. "He isn't okay, Dean. I hate seeing him like that. I don't need to be something else for him to worry about."

"Maxie, he's not gonna be happy if he finds out about it and it isn't from you."

"Dean, he's going through enough right now without my stupid little problems on top of it. I'll be fine." I looked over at where he sat towards the edge of the campsite, Dad's journal in his hands as he stared off at nothing. "C'mon." I muttered to Dean.

We walked over and took a seat at either side of Sam. "You wanna tell us what's going on in that freaky head of yours?" Dean pressed.

"Dean-" Sam began.

"No, you are not fine. You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?"

Sam paused, still not looking up. "Dad's not here." He said glumly. "I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?"

"Yeah, you're probably right. Tell you the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek."

"Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road. Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?"

Dean looked up at me for a second, I shook my head, I didn't have an answer. His eyes fell to the journal in Sam's hands. "This is why." He said, moving around to crouch in front of Sam, taking dad's journal and holding it up to him. "This book, this is dad's single, most valuable possession- everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things.. The family business."

Sam shook his head. "That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just- call us? Why doesn't he tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?"

"I dunno, but the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it."

"Dean.. no. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about."

"Okay, alright, Sam, we'll find them, I promise. Listen to me. You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man."

Sam looked down at him, and then to me, a small frown on his face. "How do you two do this? How does Dad do it?"

He paused for a second and glanced over towards Haley and Ben. "Well, for one, them." Sam followed his eyes towards them. "I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable." He paused, Sam clearly not looking satisfied with that answer. "I'll tell you what else helps. Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can."

I smirked at that, even Sam cracking a smile of his own. "Help me! Please!" The same voice rang through the trees. We got to our feet, guns in our hands. "Help!"

"He's trying to draw us out." Sam said, shining his flashlight around. "Just stay cool, stay put."

"Inside the magic circle?" Roy muttered. The shouting halted for a second, replaced with the sound of growling. "Okay, that's no grizzly." He narrowed his eyes through the trees, pulling up his gun. Haley jumped at the sound of the trees rustling behind her, Roy firing his gun at it. "I hit it."

"Roy, no!" Sam yelled after him as he went after whatever it was he thought he'd hit. "Roy!"

"Dammit." Dean muttered, turning and pointing at Haley and Ben. "Don't move." He yelled before the three of us took off running. We slowed down a little, coming to a stop and looking around slowly, seeing nothing.

"C'mon." Sam muttered. "We gotta get back."

I walked back into the campsite first, the guy was obviously dead, just another person we didn't manage to save. I dropped down to sit on the ground, leaning against one of the trees and releasing a long sigh. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, hearing someone walking towards me and taking a seat beside me. "How you doing?" Sam's voice asked.

"Well, sitting in the middle of a forest all night wasn't really how I planned spending my weekend but," I opened my eyes and shrugged, smiling slightly at him. "I'm fine." Sam nodded, managing a small smile himself, but eventually looking down at the ground ahead of us. "Are you alright, Sam?" I asked him seriously.

Sam paused for a few seconds and shook his head. "No, I mean- I thought it'd get easier but.." He trailed off and shook his head.

"Sammy, it's only been a week, these things take time, I guess."

"Right." He said glumly, neither of us saying anything for a few minutes. "Are you okay, Max?"

I frowned slightly and looked up at him. "Yeah, course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno, you just seem a little down lately." He knew something, I could tell by the tone of his voice.

"Sammy, I'm fine, I'm just a little tired, ya know?"

"Right, you see- I don't believe you, Max. I know how you act when you're tired, and I know how you act when something's wrong. Something's wrong."

"Sam-"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle of pills. "You left this in the bathroom this morning." He said, handing them to me. "What are you taking?"

I looked down at them for a second, I'd picked off the label the other day in the car, it was just a clear bottle. "They're just some painkillers, I get these headaches and-"

"Max, these aren't painkillers." He cut me off, the accusation now clear in his voice. "What are they?"

"It's nothing."

"Max, it's been a week. I've been trying to ignore it, pretend like I don't know you've got some big secret between you, but this-" He pointed down at the bottle. "-you have to tell me."

I paused for a couple of minutes, a deep sigh leaving me before I looked back down at them. "It's called Lexapro." I muttered, my eyes fixed on the ground. "It's an antidepressant."

"It's a what?" I could hear the shock clear in his voice, the concern and the worry, exactly what I hadn't wanted from him.

"An SSRI, or whatever.." To be honest, I hadn't really been listening to the doctor at the time. "Treats depression and anxiety, that kinda thing." I shrugged it off, like it wasn't a big deal. To me, it wasn't.

"Okay," Sam began calmly. "-and why are you on it?"

"Because some stupid doctor put some stupid ideas into Dean's stupid head." I muttered. "You know what Dean's like, he heard the word depression and his listening skills went out the window."

"And, you don't take them?"

I shook my head slowly. "I don't need them, Sam."

"Max, if they've said you need them, maybe you should be taking them."

"Oh, don't you start too, Sammy, I'm perfectly fine. I'm not depressed. This job just gets to you some times, you know that as well as I do."

He waited a few seconds, I could feel him watching me. "Are you sure that's all it is?"

I paused before nodding. "I'm sure."

"You should've told me, Max." He said quietly, placing an arm around my shoulders. I sighed and leaned my head against his shoulder, for the first time in a few days, I actually felt like I could fall asleep. And despite where we were, what was going on around us, with him, I felt safe.

* * *

**The next morning, 07:06AM. **

When I woke up, I was still in the same place I had been when I'd fallen asleep, my head rested against Sam's shoulder. I sat up straighter and nudged Sam in the arm, waking him up. "Mornin' sunshine." I muttered, my voice still thick with sleep.

He smiled a little and got to his feet, pulling me up with him. We headed over to where Dean was talking to Haley and Ben, giving us a smile as he saw us, he looked a little grateful that we'd gotten some sleep. "I don't...I mean, these types of things, they aren't supposed to be real." Haley was saying.

"I wish I could tell you different." Dean muttered.

"How do we know it's not out there watching us?"

"We don't. But we're safe for now."

She watched him curiously. "How do you know about this stuff?"

Dean paused while he considered an answer, looking from her to me and Sam. "Kind of runs in the family."

"So, we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch." Sam said, his tone light.

Dean grinned at him. "Well, hell, you know I'm in. Maxie?"

I nodded, a smile spreading over my face. "Hell yeah."

"Alright," Sam began, taking Dad's journal and opening it up to the right page. "-Wendigo is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours'."

"They're hundreds of years old." Dean continued. "Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter."

Haley frowned. "How's a man turn into one of those things?"

Dean bent down to pick a couple of things up from the ground. "It's always the same." I went on. "During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp."

"Like the Donner Party." Ben added.

Sam nodded. "Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality. If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry."

"So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?"

Dean paused for a second. "You're not gonna like it."

"Tell me." She pressed.

"More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there."

"And then how do we stop it?"

"Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically-" He held up a can of lighter fluid and a beer bottle. "-we gotta torch the sucker."

* * *

**One hour later.**

Dean and I walked at the front, Haley and Ben behind us, then Sam at the back. We followed a path of trees, red claw marks on them, like a way too easy trail. Sam caught up to us, apparently having the same thought. "You know, I was thinking, those claw prints, so clear and distinct. They were almost too easy to follow."

I looked around, almost all the trees now had some kind of claw mark on them, broken branches and twigs everywhere. We whipped around at the sound of a deep growl, Haley suddenly jumping back, just in time for Roy's falling body to miss her. "Jeez." Dean muttered, taking a step towards his body, looking over him slowly. "Neck's broken."

I stopped beside Haley, holding out a hand and pulling her up. "You alright?"

She nodded slowly. "I'm fine."

There was more growling, this time louder. "Alright, we gotta go." Dean said urgently, grabbing my arm before I had a chance to react and pulling me along the same way as him. We ran for a couple of minutes, stopping short as the wendigo appeared in front of us. I heard Haley scream from beside me, turning around quickly and feeling a hard blow to the side of my head, then everything went black.

* * *

**06:53PM.**

"Max? Max?!" I heard Sam's voice calling my name from somewhere. "Max, open your eyes. Max!" I slowly blinked open my eyes, seeing his blurred face in front of me. "Are you alright?" He asked, his voice panicked.

"I'm good." I muttered, my voice quieter than I intended. I looked around slowly as Sam reached up to cut the ropes holding my wrists above me, Haley was sitting on the floor, both her brothers beside her. I smiled a little at them, looking over at where Dean was sitting, looking like he was in pain. I felt myself drop to the ground as Sam cut through the ropes, catching me and moving me over to Dean.

"You sure you're alright?" Sam said, looking between Dean and me, a concerned frown on his face.

Dean grimaced, nodding slowly. "Where is he?" I asked.

"He's gone for now." Sam assured.

I ran a hand over my face, my eyes falling to where all the stolen supplies lay towards the dark corner of the cave. "Hey." I nudged Dean's knee with mine, pointing over at them. Dean stumbled to his feet and grabbed one of the bags, opening it up and grinning as he pulled out a couple of flare guns.

"Flare guns." Sam stated, a smile on his face. "Those'll work."

Dean smirked and twirled them around, a short laugh escaping him. Haley and Ben grabbed their brother, each supporting him as we headed out of the cave. I turned at the sound of growling near the entrance. "Looks like someone's home for supper." Dean muttered, looking back at us.

"We'll never out run it." Haley said, her voice quiet.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Dean asked, looking between me and Sam.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"Alright," Dean said, turning to look at Haley and her brothers. "-listen to me, Sam and Max are gonna get you out of here-"

"I'm coming with you." I cut him off, looking him dead in the face.

"Maxie, no. I'm not getting you killed."

"And I'm not letting you go after a friggin' wendigo alone." I countered.

He sighed and nodded at Sam, the two of us turning and heading off in a different direction. "Chow time, you freaky bastard!" Dean yelled. "Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, we taste good." We paused for a second, hearing nothing. "Come on, you want some white meat, bitch?!" I couldn't help but smirk at his choice of words. "We're right here!"

We both whipped around at the sound of a gunshot. "Sam." I said, both of us breaking into a run towards the sound. We saw the four of them backing away slowly, the wendigo right in front of them.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, the wendigo turning to face us as we shot it at the same time. The flares went off, the wendigo burning up into flames. "Not bad, huh?" Dean grinned. I laughed, looking up at him and bumping the fist he held out to me. Sam looked over at us and smiled.

* * *

**07:31PM.**

I sat in the back of an ambulance, staring off at nothing while one of the paramedics patched up the cut on my forehead. I was exhausted, both physically and mentally, all I wanted to do was sleep. I was becoming more and more worried about dad with every day that passed we didn't hear from him, I was starting to think the worst about it, and that terrified me. I was worried like hell about Sam, all he ever said that was he was fine, but I could see right through it, he was a wreck. I looked over at him, talking to one of the police officers with Ben, and sighed sadly. I wished I could make it easier on him, I wished I knew how to make it better, but I couldn't. "You're all set." The guy said to me, a smile on his face.

I snapped back into reality and looked up at him, getting to my feet. "Thanks." I muttered, hopping out of the ambulance and heading over to where Dean was talking to Haley. She kissed his cheek and turned, her and Ben walking towards the ambulance her brother was in, stopping ahead of me.

"Thank you, Max." Haley said, reaching out and pulling me into a hug.

"Yeah, don't mention it." I pulled back and smiled at them, giving a small wave before heading back towards where Sam and Dean were leaning against the Impala.

"Man, I hate camping." Sam muttered as I sat beside him, his eyes fixed on the ground ahead.

"Me too." Dean agreed.

I nodded slowly. "Me three."

We watched the ambulance drive away, remaining where we sat on the hood. "Sam, you know we're gonna find dad, right?" Dean said, looking over at him.

"Yeah, I know." He sighed lightly and looked up at him. "But in the meantime, I'm driving." Dean sighed and tossed him the keys, ruffling my hair as he passed on the way to the car door, a small grin on his face.

* * *

**The next day, motel room, 08:23AM.**

I woke up the next morning to the sound of Sam and Dean arguing, not something that I could say I'd missed when Sam had left. I groaned to myself and turned over, my back to them, letting out a deep sigh and wishing that I could just stay there for the rest of my life. "Dean, look, maybe if you'd just listen to her-" Sam went on, his tone remaining aggravated. Apparently neither of them had noticed I was awake.

"She's told you she doesn't need them, right?" Dean argued back, his tone sounding slightly amused for a second before it turned completely serious. "Sam, you weren't here, and dad wasn't here. I was. I was the one who saw how bad it was, how bad she got, not you."

Sam paused for a few seconds. "What are you talking about?" He pressed curiously, I wasn't sure I wanted to hear this.

"She was having nightmares, every night. And I don't just mean bad dreams here, Sam, I mean she was waking up in tears. She was reckless, she almost got herself killed I don't know how many times. And you know what, that's not even the part that scared me. Because she was fine on hunts. I mean, she was smart, and quick, and she knew what she was doing- if I'm being honest, the way she hunts, it reminded me of dad. But it was what came afterwards, she brought it home with her. And I honestly think that she was scared. Scared about dad, I don't know- But the nightmares were getting worse, she didn't want to sleep, she didn't want to eat- if it'd carried on like that, I think she would've gone nuts. So I took her to see a doctor, because I didn't know what else to do. Dad wouldn't answer the phone- So, she went, and she swore to me that she'd take it seriously, and that she'd be honest with him.. in moderation."

"So?" Sam asked. "What happened then?"

"You know what he told me, Sammy?" Dean's voice was quiet now, he sounded upset. "He told me that she was depressed. And that she had some kind of anxiety disorder, I don't know. I'm not sure if it was that, or whether she was just scared over hunting but-"

"Well, if you don't know, why are you forcing her to take these pills? You have no idea what they're doing to her."

"Because, Sam- I figure it's better to be safe than sorry here. If it doesn't work out, she can always come off them. All I'm asking her is to try them. Because if something happens to her, and I could've stopped it, that's on me." He stopped and lowered his voice. "I'm not gonna lose her, Sam."

Sam sighed deeply. "Alright, I just think maybe you should actually talk to her about it, instead of pressuring her to take them." I heard one of them move across the room. "I'm gonna go pick up some breakfast." Sam said, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing.

I heard Dean sigh heavily, standing there for a couple of minutes before I heard him move towards the bathroom. "Maxie!" He yelled over his shoulder. "Wake up!" I turned over and looked over at the bathroom, waiting a minute before he appeared in the doorway again. "Mornin' sleepy." He said brightly, a smile on his face. "You gonna lie there all day or what?"

I climbed out of bed and ran a hand over my face, wiping the sleep from my eyes. Dean watched me for a couple of minutes, like he was unsure if I'd just heard their conversation or not. "I thought you weren't going to tell Sam about it." He pressed, seemingly going with what he already knew.

"I wasn't." I answered simply. "He found the pills, and he asked me about them. I might've been willing not to tell him, but I can't stand there and lie straight to his face, Dean."

"Yeah.."

I cleared my throat and looked up at him. "Hey, I'm sorry. I never knew that you'd been so worried, or that I'd scared you like that.. I wouldn't have been such a bitch with you about them if I had."

Dean sighed and shook his head. "You're not being a bitch, Max, you're just stubborn. I just- I can't have you back like that, I'm not gonna let you get yourself killed."

I looked away from him, I could see the pleading look in his eyes. I didn't have the heart to have another fight with him about it. "Okay." I said quietly, smiling at him before I headed towards the bathroom to take a shower.

I didn't know what I was going to do.

* * *

_So I hope that explained what you wanted to know. That's not the end of it, the whole storyline will progress into something as we go through season one. Hope you're still enjoying it and thank you so, so, so much for the support! Every review/favorite/follow means the world! Thank you for reading, not only this story but my other one too! Love you all! THANKYOU! :-)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Motel Room, 05:23AM. **

I woke up to a loud bang, followed closely by the sound of Sam muttering something under his breath as he picked up whatever it was that he had dropped, placing it down on the table. I rolled over in bed and wiped the sleep from my eyes, opening them to look up at the dull ceiling. The room was still dark, the only light coming from where the bathroom door was slightly ajar. I glanced over at where Sam stood, fully dressed, at the other side of the room, looking like he was heading out somewhere. "Sammy?" I sat up slowly, my voice still slightly groggy with sleep, and ran a hand over my face, looking down at the clock beside the bed and raising an eyebrow at him. "Dude, it's half five in the morning, where are you going?"

"I uh, I was gonna go get some coffee." He muttered, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal. "Didn't mean to wake you." He added, his voice remaining quiet.

I shook my head and reluctantly pushed myself to get out of bed, crossing the room towards him. "You haven't even been to bed, have you?" He looked down at me, not giving an answer, I could clearly see in his face how tired he was, dark circles now forming under his eyes. "Sammy, you've gotta get some rest, you're exhausted."

He sighed, taking a step backwards to lean against the edge of the table. "I can't sleep, Max." He answered, his voice soft. "I wish that I could, but I just can't." I shook my head, I didn't know what to say to him, I didn't want to push him to talk about what he obviously didn't want to talk about, but I didn't want him to feel as though he was some sort of pity party. I didn't know how to deal with it. "I'm gonna go get some breakfast." He said lightly, giving me a small, obviously forced, smile before heading over to the door and leaving the room, clearly not wanting to carry on that conversation any further. I missed when he used to smile, I missed when he used to be the optimistic one, the one who always saw the bright side, but now he was different. It was a long time ago, but I missed the days that the three of us used to joke around, I missed the days when Sam would actualy crack a smile now and again- I felt so bad for him, and I couldn't even begin to imagine what he was going through right now, but it all sucked. These days, Dean was the only one of the three of us who ever seemed to have any energy or hope in him. I sighed lightly and picked up my bag from one of the chairs, opening it up and pulling out my pills, making sure that Dean was still sleeping before I took out two and headed to the bathroom to wash them down the sink. I felt awful lying to him about it, but I'd only been on them a few days and already I felt more depressed than ever. Like I couldn't be bothered to go on, or care about anything. The world seemed a much darker place when I was on them, and I couldn't take that, not with the way things already were. I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing the dark circles under my own bloodshot eyes. I wasn't sleeping all that much, never grabbing more than three or four hours in a night, but that was nothing compared to Sam. His sleep was now almost non existant.

I heard the motel's door open and close as Sam came back. I headed out of the bathroom and managed to conjour up a small smile to him as he walked further inside, stopping at the end of Dean's bed, a small smirk playing on his face. "Mornin', sunshine!" He said brightly, holding up the coffee and food in his hands as he did.

Dean rolled over with a long, tired groan, still looking half asleep, his hair sticking out at odd angles. "What time is it?" He grumbled.

Sam shrugged. "Uh, it's about five forty-five." He answered lightly.

"In the morning?" He moaned, sitting up properly. "Where does the day go?" He added with mock enthusiasm as Sam took a seat on the bed facing him, passing him his coffee. I moved to sit down beside Sam, getting a light kick in the leg by Dean as I passed, picking up my own coffee from the tray. "Did you get any sleep last night?" He asked Sam, his voice becoming serious.

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours." He said, his tone remaining light.

"Liar." Dean muttered. "'Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial." He stated.

Sam smiled briefly like it wasn't a big deal. "Hey, what can I say, it's riveting TV."

Now that I thought about it, I'd been up the night before and Sam had definitely not had any sleep that night either, I didn't remember the last time I'd seen him sleep for more than an hour. "Sammy, when was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"I pressed, looking up at him in concern.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, a little while, I guess." He looked between us and smiled. "It's not a big deal."

"Uh, yeah, it is." Dean cut in flatly.

"Look, I appreciate your concern-" Sam began.

"Oh, I'm not concerned about you." Dean said, cutting him off. "It's your job to keep our asses alive, so we need you sharp." Sam rolled his eyes at that. "Seriously," Dean continued. "-are you still having nightmares about Jess?"

"Yeah, but it's not just her, it's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job, it gets to you." I nodded slowly, I was the same as Sam when it came to that. I hunted like Dean, but I always felt it like Sam.

"You can't let it," Dean said, speaking to Sam but looking at me. "-you can't bring it home like that."

"So, what?" Sam pressed. "All this, it never keeps you up at night?" Dean shook his head nonchalantly. "Never?" He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You're never afraid?"

Dean shook his head again. "No, not really." Sam sighed and reached under Dean's pillow, pulling out a knife and holding it up to him like it was some kind of evidence to prove his point. "That is not fear." Dean countered. "That is precaution." He said, taking back his knife.

"Alright, whatever. I'm too tired to argue."

Dean forced himself to stand up with a groan, stretching and cracking his neck as he did. "So," He began brightly. "We looking for a hunt or what?"

Sam frowned. "Are you sure we should be taking another hunt?" He pressed.

"Well, yeah, with dad disappearing and-"

"People don't just disappear, Dean." Sam cut him off. "Other people just stop looking for them." He muttered, he sounded pissed off, the way he had for at least a couple of days now. He was just growing more and more frustrated by the day, the lack of sleep making him irritable.

Dean and I looked between each other at that comment, a concerned frown forming on Dean's face. "Something you want to say, Sam?" He pressed, looking up at him expectantly.

"The trail for dad, it's getting colder everyday." He answered, his tone hard.

"Exactly." Dean agreed. "So what are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know. Something. Anything."

Dean shook his head. "You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?" I groaned, I was sick of listening to the same argument over and over.

"Yeah, I know you do, it's just-"

"Sam, Max and I are the ones that have been with him every single day for the past four years, while you were off at college going to pep rallies." I could hear the annoyance in his tone, building up more and more by the day. "We will find Dad," He continued, his voice now determined. "-but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there, okay? And that means getting back on the road and finding something to gank."

Sam sighed and nodded slowly. "Alright, fine. Let's hit the road then." He muttered, also getting to his feet, an impatient frown on his face.

Within the next fifteen minutes, the three of us were in the Impala, none of us any idea where Dean was supposed to be driving to. I stared blankly at the newspaper on my lap, the words all merging together and becoming a blur to me. I sat like that for a while, not sure how much time had passed, until Dean finally broke the long silence surrounding us. "Sam's sleeping, finally." He muttered, glancing back at him through the rearview mirror. I looked over my shoulder at him, his head was rested against the window, he'd been fighting off sleep for days, and I didn't understand why. The nightmares were the only thing I could put it down to, as though he was afraid of them. "You think he'll be alright?"

I could see it now, hear it in his voice, Dean was starting to get seriously worried about him. He wasn't acting like himself, he was exhausted and he was refusing to talk about it. "Sure he will." I answered quietly. "I guess he just needs some time to deal with it. Can't be an easy thing to get over, right?"

"Yeah." Dean mumbled, returning his gaze to the road.

I sighed and looked back to the newspaper on my lap, skimming through a couple of obituaries. "Hey, what about this- a guy found dead in his bathroom up in Ohio, looks pretty spooky."

"Huh, better than nothing, I guess." He said lightly. "Ohio, it is."

I smiled slightly and placed the newspaper down between us, looking out of the window ahead, thinking back to just a few weeks ago when I'd been sitting in the same seat, Dean in the driving seat and Dad up ahead of us in his own truck. Sometimes I thought I'd been happier back then, like even though I'd missed Sam like hell, at least I'd known that he was safe, that he was happy. And I'd have given anything for him not to be going through the pain he was suffering through now. But at the same time, whether we were slightly dysfunctional or not, I'd missed having both of my brothers around.

* * *

**Impala, Toledo, Ohio, 11:27AM. **

Dean pulled over the Impala into a parking space outside of the morgue building, sighing as he turned to the backseat where Sam was still sleeping. He was mumbling slightly under his breath, a small frown on his face. "Sam." Dean pressed, getting no response. "Sammy.. Sam, wake up!"

Sam startled awake, looking around the car in confusion for a couple of seconds before letting out a deep breath and turning his attention towards us. "I take it I was having a nightmare?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," Dean answered, concern clear in his tone. "-another one."

"Hey, at least I got some sleep." Sam countered lightly.

"You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this." He muttered.

Sam sighed lightly, looking out of the window, avoiding answering his question. "Where are we?"

"This is, Toledo, Ohio." Dean announced brightly as I passed the newspaper over the backseat to Sam, pointing at one of the obituaries.

Sam skimmed over the article and nodded. "So, what do you think happened to this guy?" He asked curiously.

"That's what we're gonna find out." Dean said, opening the car door. "Let's go."

Sam and I followed his lead, climbing out of the Impala and following him over the street towards the building. We headed into the morgue, Dean at the front and Sam and me behind him. There was a guy sitting behind one of the two desks in the room, watching us curiously as we headed inside. "Hey." He said, looking between the three of us. "Can I help you?" He asked.

"Hey." Dean smiled, glancing over towards the other desk for a second before looking back to him. "We're the, uh.. med students."

The guy raised an eyebrow at us, clearly confused. "Sorry?"

"Oh, doctor-" Dean stumbled over the name. "-Figlavitch, didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. He, uh, we're from Ohio State." He wasn't even sounding convincing to himself, never mind to the guy he was talking to. "He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper."

The guy frowned, nodding slowly. "Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch."

"Oh, well, he said, uh-" He paused, looking lost for an excuse. "-oh well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?"

"Sorry, I can't." He muttered. "Doc will be back in an hour, you can wait for him if you want."

"An hour? We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then." Dean said looking back at me and Sam for some kind of reaction. We both nodded slowly, like that made us look any more convincing.

"Yeah." Sam said lamely, earning us nothing but an eye roll and one of those 'you'll never make it in Hollywood' looks from Dean as he turned back to the guy, forcing up a smile. He looked like he wanted to rip the guy's head off.

"Uh, look man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out-"

"Oh, look man, no." He cut him off.

Dean let out a small laugh, turning away from him for a second. "I'm gonna hit him in his face, I swear." He mumbled.

Sam hit Dean on the arm, stepping in before he got even more annoyed than he already was. He pulled out his wallet and opened it up, dropping a few twenties onto the desk in front of us. The guy looked at the money, and then to Sam, before picking it up quickly and getting to his feet. "Follow me." He said brightly, heading towards the door of the room.

Dean grabbed Sam around the arm before he had a chance to follow him. "Dude, I earned that money." He complained.

Sam shook his head. "You won it in a poker game." He countered.

Dean held out his arms and frowned. "Yeah?"

Sam rolled his eyes and followed the guy out of the room. We headed into the next room where he pulled out one of the bodies, pulling back the white sheet covering it and setting it just below his neck. "The newspaper said his daughter found him?" Sam stated. "She said his eyes were bleeding?"

The guy placed the sheet back over the body. "More than that, they practically liquefied."

"Any sign of a struggle?" Sam asked him, a curious frown on his face. "Maybe somebody did it to him?"

"Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone."

"What's the official cause of death?" I questioned.

"Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure."

Sam tilted his head to the side slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen."

"That's gross." Dean muttered under his breath.

The guy frowned at him. "What?"

"I said, what could cause something like that?"

He narrowed his eyes at him. "Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims." He continued.

"Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs? Dean asked.

"That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor.

Sam nodded at him. "Hey, think we could take a look at that police report?" Dean asked lightly. "You know for, uh.. our paper.

The guy shook his head, eyeing Sam. "I'm not really supposed to show you that." Sam shook his head at him and pulled out his wallet, annoyance now showing clearly on his face as he handed him some more money. "Wait here." The guy muttered, turning towards the door.

Ten minutes later, we headed out of the morgue, making our way down the stairs to the exit. "Might not be one of ours." Sam suggested. "Might just be a freak medical thing."

Dean shook his head. "How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually ever been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?"

"Uh, almost never."

"Exactly."

"Alright, let's go talk to the daughter." Dean and I both nodded as we walked out onto the bright street, wandering over to the Impala.

* * *

**Shoemaker House, 12:45PM.**

The three of us walked into the house casually, attempting not to look suspicious or draw any unneccessary attention to ourselves. I looked around at the people there, everyone dressed smartly, before glancing down at my black jeans and scruffy boots, feeling a little guilty that we hadn't bothered to put something more appropriate on. Dean walked on ahead of me and paused, looking around. "Feel like we're underdressed." He commented, not sounding at all bothered by it. We headed towards the back of the house, looking for someone that could be the dead guy's daughter.

I stopped in the hallway, looking up at one of the pictures on the wall, the dead guy we'd just seen at the morgue with his wife and two daughters. "Must be horrible for them." I said quietly, more to myself than to anyone else. Dean stood behind me, nodding slowly.

"Yeah." He rested a hand on my shoulder for a second as I turned back to face him. "Maxie, we're gonna find Dad, alright? You need to stop worrying about him, he's probably just fine." His voice was soft, not loud enough that anyone else would be able to hear him. I could see he knew what was going through my head, and I didn't mean for it, I just couldn't help but think the worst about dad, and that terrified me. But I couldn't seem to tell Dean outright what I thought, afraid of saying it out loud, as if that would make it any more true.

"Hey." I nodded over at where Sam was standing outside, talking to one of the guys by the door. We headed towards him just as the man pointed over to the other side of the garden, where the two daughters and another two girls were sitting. We walked towards them, getting a wary look from one of her friends as we approached.

"Hey, you must be Donna, right?" Dean asked, looking down at the girl sitting in the middle.

She looked between us and nodded. "Yeah."

"Hi, uh- we're really sorry." Sam said softly, a sympathetic frown on his face.

Donna forced up a smile to us. "Thank you."

"I'm Sam, this is Max and Dean." He said, pointing between us. "We worked with your dad."

Donna glanced up at her friend, then back to us, looking a little skeptical. "You did?" She pressed.

"Yeah, this whole thing.. I mean, a stroke." Dean continued.

"I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now." One of her friends said to him.

Donna shook her head. "It's okay, I'm okay."

"Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?" Dean pressed.

Donna shook her head again. "No."

The young girl beside her turned around and looked at us. "That's because it wasn't a stroke." She stated, sounding all too convinced by her words.

"Lily, don't say that." Donna said, looking a little hurt.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I'm sorry, she's just upset."

"No, it happened because of me." The girl insisted.

"Sweetie, it didn't."

Dean elbowed me lightly in the ribs, nodding down at her. I sighed at him, always left the emotional work to me. I crouched down so that I was eye level with her. "Lily, why would you say something like that?" I pressed, keeping my voice gentle.

"Right before he died, I said it."

"You said what?"

"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror." I paused, not sure of how to answer that. "She took his eyes, that's what she does."

"That's not why Dad died, this isn't your fault." Her sister assured her.

"I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?" Dean pressed.

Lily shook her head slowly. "No, I don't think so."

I nodded slowly, looking back to her. "Hey, trust me, honey, this wasn't your fault, okay?"

Lily gave a small nod, not looking at all convinced. I stood up and looked from Sam to Dean, Donna giving me a small smile before we turned away from her and headed back towards the house. "What are we supposed to do now?" Sam muttered. "I mean, if this is Bloody Mary then-"

"Then we need to get up to the bathroom and check that mirror." Dean finished.

Sam and I both nodded, following him back into the house and heading upstairs to the bathroom. Sam went first, pushing open the door, revealing the faded stain of blood on the tiled floor. "The Bloody Mary legend, Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?" Sam asked.

Dean and I both shrugged. "Not that I know of." He said quietly.

"I mean, everywhere else all over the county, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it."

"Yeah, but maybe everywhere else it's just a story-" I suggested. "-but here it's actually happening?"

"The place where the legend began?"

Dean shrugged and opened up the medicine cabinet, looking through it. "But according to the legend, the person who says Blo-"

"Don't." I cut him off simply. Sam looked at me as I shook my head.

He looked back to the medicine cabinet mirror which now faced him and closed it. "The person who says, you know what, gets it, but here-"

"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah." Dean finished for him. "Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out."

Sam nodded. "It's worth checking in to."

We walked out of the bathroom, out onto the hallway where one of Donna's friends from outside was standing. She looked between the three of us and frowned. "What are you doing up here?"

"We, uh, we- we, had to go to the bathroom." Dean said lamely.

I looked up at him in disbelief and shook my head. "What the hell, Dean?" He gave an innocent shrug before looking back to her.

"Who are you?" She asked, her tone defensive.

"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad-"

"He was a day trader or something." She cut him off. "He worked by himself."

"No, I know, I meant-"

"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming."

Dean scoffed at that, not looking remotely phased by her threat. "Alright, alright," Sam began calmly. "-we think something happened to Donna's dad."

"Yeah, a stroke."

"That's not a sign of a typical stroke." He said, looking down at the blood still staining the floor. "We think it might be something else."

The girl frowned at us. "Like what?"

"Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth."

"So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead." Dean challenged her.

"Who are you, cops?"

Sam looked over his shoulder to us. "Something like that." I muttered.

"I'll tell you what. Here." Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out some paper and a pen, writing down his cell phone number. "If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary.. just give us a call." He handed her the small scrap of paper before the three of us walked away down the hallway and back downstairs.

* * *

**Library, 02:38PM.**

After grabbing some food, the three of us headed to the local library. It was pretty dark inside for the time of day, making the whole task ahead of us seem even more depressing than it already did. "Alright," Dean began, looking around slowly. "-so, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town, there's gonna be some sort or proof, like a local woman who died nasty?"

"Yeah, but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like fifty versions of who she actually is." Sam explained as we walked further inside. "One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more."

"Okay, so what are we supposed to be looking for?" I asked him.

"Well, every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers- public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill."

"Well, that sounds annoying." Dean commented.

"No it won't be so bad, as long as we-" Sam paused as his eyes fell to the computers, all with notes on saying _out of order. _He let out a slight chuckle and sighed. "I take it back, this will be very annoying."

* * *

**Motel Room, 11:34PM. **

After a whole day of research, and finding out absolutely nothing, then grabbing some food at the diner down the street, we finally arrived back to the motel room. "I swear to god, I've never been so tired in my life." I muttered as we walked back into the room, pulling off my jacket and dropping it onto the back of one of the chairs.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "-I hear ya. Sam, how did you do that all day, every day, for four freakin' years, man?"

Sam only laughed, rolling his eyes at us. "I'm gonna crash." I said, dropping down onto one of the beds. I glanced up at Sam and smiled slightly. "You gonna get some sleep, bro?"

"Uh, yeah." He nodded. "I'm gonna have a shower first." He said with a small smile before heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind himself.

I sighed and looked up at Dean. "He'll be alright, Max, don't worry about him." He assured.

"Don't worry about him?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Dean, he hasn't slept properly in days."

"Yeah, I know that." He sighed and took a seat on the bed beside me. "But neither have you."

"Dean-"

"Dammit, Maxie, you think I can't see it, don't you? You seriously think after all these years you can still keep this crap to yourself. You're exhausted, you're spending so much time worrying about Sam, and worrying about Dad- you need to worry about yourself."

"I thought that's what I had you here for." I said lightly.

Dean smiled at that, shaking his head at me. "Just, get some sleep, okay? I'll watch Sam." I nodded slowly, pulling off my boots and climbing into one of the beds, not bothering to change my clothes, falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

**Motel Room, 10:01AM.**

I woke up the next morning, not remembering the last time I'd managed to sleep through the entire night. I slowly sat up and looked over at where Dean was sitting at the table, a bunch of papers in front of him. I glanced over to my left where Sam was sleeping on one of the beds. I climbed out of bed and dragged my feet over to Dean, dropping into the chair opposite his. "Morning." He said lightly.

"What are you doing?" I asked, looking over the pile of research in front of him.

"Still looking for something on this Mary chick, haven't found anything so far." He answered, reaching out for his half empty cup of coffee sitting front of him and placing it down in front of me with a slight smirk. "Maxie, you look like a freakin' zombie."

"Bite me." I paused and looked down at my watch, taking a drink. "How long you been at this?"

"Uh, couple of hours, started when he fell asleep."

I looked over at Sam and frowned. "Wait, you mean he didn't sleep all night?"

"No, don't think so. I fell asleep about two, he was still up then, and when I woke up at about seven, he was still on his laptop doing whatever it is that he does- he fell asleep about two hours ago."

I shook my head and sighed, rubbing my eyes with the backs of my hands. "You want some help with this?"

Before he had a chance to answer, Sam suddenly woke up, staring up at the ceiling for a few seconds before he even moved. "Why'd you let me fall asleep?" He mumbled, looking over at Dean.

"Because I'm an awesome brother." He muttered in reply. "So, what did you dream about?"

"Lollipops and candy canes." Sam answered sarcastically.

"Yeah, sure."

He sighed heavily and shook his head. "Did you find anything?"

"Oh, besides a whole new level of frustration?" Sam sat up slowly and looked between us. "No, I've looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror- and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary."

Sam fell back down to the bed. "Maybe we just haven't found it yet." He said glumly, his voice quiet.

"I've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know.. eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary."

Sam shrugged, looking over at the table as his phone rang. He reached for it and held it to his ear. "Hello?" He answered. He listened for a few second before a concerned frown formed on his face as he sat up and looked between us.

* * *

**Park, 10:57AM. **

We climbed out of the Impala, crossing the street towards where Charlie was sitting on a bench facing us. She looked upset, like she'd been crying. I took a seat beside her, resting an arm around her shoulders as a couple of tears fell down her cheeks. "Hey, what's wrong?" I asked quietly as Dean took a seat on the back of the bench, looking down at us while Sam stood in front of us.

Charlie shook her head slowly, taking a couple of minutes before she found an answer. "Jill's dead." She paused and let out a small sob. "And, they found her on the bathroom floor.. And her- her eyes.. They were gone." She cried.

"I'm sorry." Sam said softly.

"She said it." I looked up at Sam and Dean. "I heard her say it, but it couldn't be because of that.. I'm insane, right?"

"No, you're not insane." Dean said.

"Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse."

"Look. We think something's happening here." Sam said quietly. "Something that can't be explained."

"And we're gonna stop it but we could use your help." Dean added.

"What can I do?" She asked.

"We need to see your friend's room, you think you can get us in?" Sam pressed.

Charlie nodded and got to her feet, wiping her cheeks with her sleeves and clearing her throat. "Sure."

* * *

**Jill's Room, 12:32PM. **

We climbed through the bedroom window to Jill's house as Charlie opened it for us, standing in the room and looking around. Dean threw Sam his duffel bag before he climbed inside too, closing the window after himself. Sam placed it down on the bed before opening it and beginning to look through it. "What did you tell Jill's mom?" He asked her casually.

"Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things." Sam pulled out a camera while Dean closed the curtains. "I hate lying to her."

"Trust us, this is for the greater good." Dean said with a smile. "Hit the lights." I headed over towards the door and flipped the switch.

"What are you guys looking for?"

"We'll let you know as soon as we find it." Dean muttered. Sam turned on the digital camera in his hand, flipping on the night vision. Dean looked back at it and smirked. "Do I look like Paris Hilton?"

I laughed and shook my head at him, watching over Sam's shoulder as he filmed around the mirror. "I don't get it. I mean.. the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?" I muttered.

"Beats me." Dean said as Sam headed into the bathroom, filming around the mirror in there. Dean turned to Charlie, his face hard. "I want to know why Jill said it in the first place."

"It's just a joke."

"Yeah well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time."

"Hey." Sam stuck his head around the door, a frown on his face. "There's a black light in the trunk, right?"

Dean nodded and pulled out his keys, throwing them to me. "You go." He smirked.

"You're so friggin' lazy, you know that?" I muttered, opening the window and climbing down to the car.

When I came back, Dean and Sam had moved the bathroom mirror onto Jill's bed, turning it upside down. I tossed Sam the blacklight as he peeled off the brown paper on the back of this mirror. He shone the light over the back of the it, revealing a hand print and the name 'Gary Bryman'.

"Gary Bryman?" Charlie read.

"You know that name?" Sam asked her. She just shook her head. "Alright, I think we need to head back to the library, find out who he is, or was." Dean and I nodded.

We headed back out to the car, me driving with Charlie beside me, and Sam and Dean in the backseat. I pulled over beside the library and turned off the engine. "Alright, you two stay here, won't be long." Dean muttered before he and Sam climbed out of the car, heading up the steps to the door.

Charlie watched them until they were out of sight, turning back to face ahead out of the window. "How do you three know about all of this?" She asked, her voice still quiet.

I didn't say anything for a few seconds as I thought of an answer. "Uh, this is kinda what we do." I replied, looking up at her and giving a small smile.

"This is your job?" I nodded slowly. "How did you get into it?"

"Our dad did it, so we grew up in it.. Kinda what we were raised to do, I guess."

"Your dad?" She repeated. "So, both Sam and Dean are your brothers, right?"

I laughed, seeing she'd been wondering that for the half hour, most people did. "Yeah, you'd be amazed how many people seem to think that we're like a couple or something."

"Well, they are cute." She laughed. "Isn't it hard, doing this all the time? I mean, you must see some pretty awful things."

"Sometimes, but I don't think that I'd want to do anything else, ya know? Even if I had the choice."

"You don't have a choice?"

I thought about it for a minute, thinking about Sam and Jess. "Not really." I said quietly. "Once you're in, there's not really a getting out- not forever anyway."

I looked up as Sam and Dean climbed into the backseat, me and Charlie turning around to face them. "So, Gary Bryman was an 8-year-old boy. Two years ago he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver." Sam explained.

"Oh my god." Charlie said slowly.

"What?" Sam pressed.

"Jill drove that car."

I looked between them slowly. "We need to get back to your friend Donna's house." I said to Charlie.

"Or, Sam, you take Charlie and do that, Max and I can go find out who this Mary chick really is before anyone else looses their eyeballs."

"Right." I said, pulling out and heading back to the motel room.

* * *

**Motel Room, 12:55PM.**

I looked up from the laptop as Sam headed into the motel room. "You find anything good?" Dean asked him as he closed the door and dropped into the seat opposite mine.

"Uh, well, the bathroom mirror had the same hand print on the back, as well as the name, Linda Shoemaker, Donna's mom."

I frowned, thinking it over. "Wait, so her dad killed her? That what you're thinking?"

"I dunno, maybe." Sam shrugged. "What've you guys got?"

"Uh, we're now in the middle of a nationwide search." I said with mock enthusiasm.

"Nationwide?" Sam repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Yep." Dean cut in. "The NCIC, the FBI database- at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me."

"But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town." Sam stated.

"I'm telling you there's nothing local, I've checked. So unless you got a better idea-"

"The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern."

Dean nodded. "I know, we were thinking the same thing.."

"With Mr Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run.." Sam carried on.

"Both had secrets where people died." I finished.

"Right. I mean there's a lot of folklore about mirrors-that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them."

"Right, right. So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it."

"Whether you're the one that summoned her or not."

"Hey, uh, Maxie found something." Dean picked up a piece of paper and handed it to Sam. There was a picture of a woman lying in front of a mirror in a pool of her own blood. He handed him another one, this time of a handprint and the letters 'Tre' written on the mirror beside her.

"Looks like the same hand print." Sam muttered.

"Her name was Mary Worthington- an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana." Dean continued. "It's only a couple of hours drive from here, I say we grab some food and we head out."

Sam nodded. "Alright, sounds like a plan, see what we can find out."

"You two go ahead, I'm gonna go see Charlie." I said, picking up my jacket and pulling it on.

"You sure?" Dean frowned.

"Uh-huh."

"Alright, we'll drop you off there on the way. Be careful, you hear me?"

I smirked and nodded at him. "Always am."

* * *

**Charlie's House, 02:15PM.**

I climbed out of the Impala and watched as Dean drove away, turning towards the house in front of me and heading over to the door. I knocked lightly, waiting a couple of minutes before knocking again. "Hey, Charlie, it's Max, you in there?" I banged on the door again. "Charlie?!"

She came to the door a couple of minutes later, her eyes red from crying. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I saw her." I frowned before I realised what she meant.

"Oh, god, okay." I nodded slowly. "You need to come with me, you've got a car right?" Charlie nodded and headed back into the house, handing me her car keys.

I drove her to the motel, her eyes closed the entire time, refusing to look at anything. "Aright, come on." I said as I pulled up outside the motel, climbing out of the car with her and leading the way to the room.

Charlie sat down in the middle of the bed, her head buried in her knees while I covered up everything inside the room that gave off any kind of reflection. I moved to sit beside her and placed an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, hey, it's okay." I said quietly. "You can open up your eyes, Charlie, it's okay." She looked up slowly, glancing around the room before looking back to me. "Listen to me, you stay right here and don't look at anything, okay, no glass, nothing with a reflection- she can't get you, okay? As long as you do that, nothing is going to happen to you."

"But I can't keep that up forever." She whispered, as tears fell down her cheeks. "I'm gonna die, aren't I?"

"No, you're not. Not anytime soon. Okay, Sam and Dean are finding out what happened, and as soon as they're back we can fix this and it'll all be okay, trust me."

Charlie looked up at me. "Why is she after me?" She asked quietly. "What did I do?"

I paused for a couple of seconds. "Charlie, something happened to you, didn't it? You've got a secret, where somebody got hurt."

She opened and closed her mouth, going still as she obviously realised what I meant. "I had this boyfriend." She began, looking down at her lap as she spoke. "I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight.. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said 'Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself.' And you know what I said? I said 'Go ahead.' And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just.. I didn't believe him, you know? I should have." She returned her face to her knees and began crying again.

I sighed sadly and shook my head, rubbing a hand up and down her back."Charlie, hey, come on, that's not your fault."

"I'm pathetic, I mean, you three face this stuff everyday-"

"What, you think it doesn't scare me? Of course it does." I looked down for a second, taking a breath. This was stuff I never said to my brothers. I never had any girlfriends, never long enough that I trusted them- but I trusted her. "Charlie, this life scares the hell out of me. Dean thinks that it depresses me."

Charlie looked up at me, a soft frown on her face. "Does it?"

"I don't know anymore.. I mean, I thought at first that it was all just a bad few weeks, and then I somehow ended up on these anti depressant things- but now, even when I don't take them, I feel like I there's this weight.. I don't really know how to explain it. But Dean's just so insistent that I take them, and I'm honestly tired of fighting about it. But they make me feel so low, and not like myself.."

"Max, look, I'm no expert, but I don't think having a job like this is supposed to be easy, right? I mean, it's obviously gonna be hard."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I hadn't thought about it that way."

"Can I ask, why do you do it? I mean, what are you aiming for?"

I didn't know how to answer that. I shook my head before realising,what everything seemed to be about, the only thing on my mind right now. "We're looking for our dad. He, uh, he disappeared and.." I trailed off, shaking my head.

"When did he disappear?" She asked softly.

"A few weeks ago, he just took a job and- he never called, we haven't heard from him since.. And I haven't told Sam and Dean but, I'm starting to think maybe.." I felt a tear roll down my cheek, my voice cracked slightly. "I always thought that he was invincible, and I was so sure that we'd find him but honestly, we're running out of places to look, and I'm starting to think-." I stopped and ran a hand over my face, wiping away the tears and forcing up a smile.

"Well, if he's anything like you and your brothers, I'm sure he's fine."

"Thanks."

* * *

**Motel Room, 08:45PM.**

We stayed in the motel room for the rest of the day, just talking to each other. Charlie jumped at the sound of banging on the motel door, followed by Dean's voice. "Maxie, it's us." He called. "Open up."

I got to my feet and pulled open the door for them, turning to face them as they entered. "Alright," Dean began. "-we're gonna smash her mirror, we know where it is."

"I'm coming with you." I said before he had a chance to propose anything different.

"Max-"

"I'm coming with you." I said again, looking up at him seriously.

He sighed and nodded. "Alright, Charlie, just sit tight, okay? Don't do anything until we get back, you're gonna be fine." Sam said softly. Charlie nodded at him slowly as we turned and headed out of the motel room, closing the door behind us and heading towards the Impala.

I climbed into the backseat of the car and sighed lightly as Dean started the engine. "So, did you find out what she'd done?" Dean asked, glancing at me through the rear view mirror.

"Uh, she had a boyfriend that killed himself, she says that's what her secret is."

"Killed himself?" Dean repeated. "Her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault."

"Hey, you know as well as I do spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Dean." Sam said. "If Charlie had a secret and someone died, that's good enough for Mary."

"I guess." He muttered.

"What did you guys find out?" I asked.

"The chick who died- they gave the mirror back to her family, it's in this store at the other side of town." Dean said casually.

"So, what's the plan? Smash the mirror and hope she just goes away?"

"Pretty much."

"You know, I've been thinking," Sam began. "It might not be enough to just smash that mirror."

"Why, what do you mean?"

"Well Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it."

"Well how do you know that's going to work?"

"I don't, not for sure."

I paused and frowned. "Well who's gonna summon her?"

"I will." Sam answered quietly. "She'll come after me."

"You know what, that's it." Dean pulled the car over, now looking annoyed. "This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night- it's gonna kill you. Now listen to me- It wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place."

"I don't blame you."

"Well you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done."

"I could've warned her."

"About what? You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean, Max and I know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway."

"No you don't."

"I don't what?"

"You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything."

"What are you talking about?" I asked him quietly, sharing a worried look with Dean.

"Well it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?"

Dean looked slightly taken aback by that. "No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it."

"Dean that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this." He shook his head and started the car, looking anything but happy about it.

* * *

**Store, 09:15PM. **

We climbed out of the Impala and headed over to the store, Sam crouching down in front of the door to pick the lock. One it opened, he pushed the door open and walked inside, followed by me and Dean. "Well," Dean began as we looked around the store, there were mirrors everywhere. "-that's just great." He pulled the picture of the mirror from his pocket and sighed. "Alright, let's start looking."

We split up and headed off in different directions. "Maybe they already sold it?" I muttered, looking around the dusty aisles.

"I don't think so." Sam's voice came from somewhere behind me. I turned and headed back to him, along with Dean. He was standing in front of the mirror, a determined look on his face.

"That's it." Dean sighed. "You sure about this?"

Sam nodded slowly, letting out a deep breath before looking straight at the mirror. "Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary-" He paused and looked back at us for a second. "Bloody Mary."

We all turned as a bright light shone through the store, coming from outside. "I'll go check that out." Dean muttered, handing me the crowbar in his hand. "Stay here, anything moves, you smash it." He said, making his way over to the door.

I jumped at the sound of glass breaking behind me, turning sharply to see Sam standing beside a smashed mirror. I looked to my left, seeing her standing in another one, lifting the crowbar and smashing it. He looked back to her mirror. "Come on." He muttered under his breath. "Come into this one."

Nothing happened for a couple of minutes. "Take a look around." Sam said quietly, nodding towards the back of the store.

"It's your fault. You killed her, you killed Jessica." I heard Sam say. I turned back at the sound of his voice, it didn't sound like Sam. He sounded angry and cold. "You never told her the truth, who you really were. But it's more than that, isn't it?" I frowned, my grip tightening on the crowbar as I headed back to him. "Those nightmares you've been having of Jessica dying, screaming, burning- you had them for days before she died, didn't you?!" I froze at that, listening for a second, not sure I'd heard right. "You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die!? You dreamt it would happen!" I snapped back into reality as I heard Sam groan in pain, coming up behind him and seeing him on his knees in front of the mirror, his own reflection glaring down at him. His face was covered in blood, the pain clear in his eyes. I ran forwards and smashed the mirror, just as I heard Dean running back into the store, both of us dropping to our knees beside him.

"Sam?" Dean pressed. "Sammy?!"

"It's Sam." He murmured.

I breathed a sigh of relief, wiping the blood from his face. "My god, are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah." He mumbled, giving a small nod.

"Come on, come on." Dean and I pulled Sam to his feet, each throwing one of his arms around our shoulders. We began walking, stopping at the sound of glass crunching behind us. We turned slowly, seeing Mary crawling out of the mirror to the floor. She walked towards us, all of us falling to the floor in front of her. I could feel the burning in my eyes, liquid running down my cheeks that I knew wasn't water. I saw Dean grab one of the mirrors from beside himself, holding it up in front of her to show her the reflection of herself.

"You killed them. All those people. You killed them." She began choking before she melted into a pile of blood. Dean threw the mirror down letting it shatter on the floor.

"Hey, guys?" We both looked at him. "This has got to be like...what? Six hundred years of bad luck?"

I laughed weakly, pushing myself up to my feet and following Sam and Dean towards the door.

* * *

**Impala, 10:24PM. **

Dean pulled up the car outside Charlie's house, turning off the engine and turning back to look at her. "So this is really over?" She asked quietly, still looking unsure.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, it's over."

"Thank you." She whispered, reaching out to shake Dean's hand with a small smile. She turned to me and placed her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "Give me a call sometime, yeah?"

"Sure." I said, pulling back and smiling at her. "I'll see you around."

She nodded and climbed out of the car, walking away. "Charlie?" Sam called after her. She turned to face him. "Your boyfriend's death.. you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen." She smiled faintly before turning back around to her house.

Dean hit Sam gently and nodded. "That's good advice." He said as he started the car, taking off down the street. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Now that this is all over, I want you to tell us what that secret is." Dean pressed, glancing up at him for a second.

"Look, guys, you're my family, you know, and I'd die for you- but there are some things I need to keep to myself." He looked out of the window and frowned at something, I wasn't sure what, before turning back to look out of the window ahead, not saying anything else.

I sat back in my seat and watched him closely, thinking back to what the Sam in the mirror had said to him. _'__you had them for days before she died, didn't you?' _

Whatever that meant, I was guessing that if it was true, it wasn't going to be a good thing..

* * *

_I know that I skipped a couple of episodes, but to be honest I think that there are some episodes that are hard to put her into without making it exactly the same as the original episode, if you get me? Aw, and I love that Max had someone to talk to about her problems. :) Okay, thank you so so so so so so so much for taking the time to read, I know they're long chapters and it means the world that you actually take out the time to read them all! Also, thank you so much for the reviews and follows and favorites, you all make my day! And as always, if there's anything you want to specifically see, or anything you want to know about her, or any oneshot you fancy, just PM me and let me know!  
Thanks again guys, you're all amazing! Hope you enjoyed! :-) :-)_


	5. Chapter 5

**08:43AM.**

* * *

I walked out of the convenience store and headed over to where Dean was putting gas into the Impala, Sam sitting in the passenger seat on his phone, the way he had been for the past half hour. I'd given up paying attention to whatever it was he'd been doing. Dean nodded at me as I got closer to them, grinning as I threw him a candy bar. "..so, I figure we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight." He was saying. I nodded slowly, not particularly interested, climbing into the backseat with a sigh. I looked up as Dean frowned at Sam, who also didn't seem to be paying any attention to him. "Sam wears women's underwear.." He added lightly, raising his eyebrows for some kind of reaction.

"I've been listening," Sam muttered in response, never taking his eyes from his phone. "-I'm just busy."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Busy doing what?" He pressed, a curious frown on his face.

"Reading emails." Sam said flatly.

I glanced up at Dean and shrugged, not thinking anything of it. "Emails from who?" He asked, not seeming satisfied with the answer.

"From my friends, at Stanford."

Dean laughed dryly, shaking his head slightly. "You're kidding, you still keep in touch with your college buddies?"

Sam nodded. "Why not?"

"Well, what exactly do you tell 'em? You know, about where you've been, what you've been doin'?"

"I tell them I'm on a road trip with my brother and sister." He answered simply. "I tell them I needed some time off after Jess."

"Oh, so you lie to them." Dean said lightly.

"No. I just don't tell them.." Sam paused. "-everything."

"Yeah, that's called lying." Dean said, looking at him through the open window. "I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin' the truth is far worse."

"So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?" Dean shrugged nonchalantly. Sam scoffed, shaking his head. "You're serious?"

"Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can't get close to people, period."

"You're kind of anti-social, you know that? Both of you." He said, rolling his eyes and returning his attention to his emails.

"We're not anti-social at all, are we, Maxie?"

I laughed and shrugged. "I dunno, if you think about it- we kinda are."

"Nah, people just can't handle our awesome, that's the problem."

"Yeah, Dean, that's the problem." I answered sarcastically.

"God-" Sam suddenly muttered, I thought more to himself than to us.

"What?" Dean pressed.

"In this email from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.."

"Is she hot?" Dean cut in with a smirk.

Sam ignored him. "I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case." He said, a note of disbelief in his tone.

"Dude, what kind of people are you hangin' out with?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"No, guys, I know Zack. He's no killer."

"Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you." Dean countered.

"They're in St. Louis. We're going."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "Look, sorry about your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem."

"It is our problem. They're my friends."

"St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam." Dean argued.

Sam only looked at him, his expression fixed with a small frown until Dean sighed heavily, shaking his head and sighing in defeat as he climbed back into the car, turning it around and driving back in the direction we'd just come from.

* * *

**St. Louis. Rebecca's House. 03:31PM. **

Dean pulled up the Impala outside of Sam's friend Rebecca's house. We climbed out of the car and made our way towards the front door, Sam reaching out and knocking lightly, waiting a few seconds before it was opened. "Oh my god." She grinned as her eyes fell to him!"

Sam smiled down at her. "Well, if it isn't little Becky."

"You know what you can do with that little Becky crap." She smiled as she stepped forwards and hugged him.

"I got your email." Sam said, looking down at her sympathetically.

"I didn't think that you would come here." She said lightly, looking behind him at me and Dean.

Dean took a step forwards, holding out his hand to her. "Dean." He introduced himself. "Older brother." He smiled. "And this is Max, little sister."

"Hi." She smiled brightly at us.

"Hey." I smiled back.

"We're here to help." Sam continued. "Whatever we can do."

Rebecca nodded slowly, stepping aside. "Come in."

We headed inside, Dean closing the door behind himself. "Nice place." He commented, looking around the house slowly.

"It's my parents'. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zack's free."

"Where are your folks?" Sam asked her.

"They live in Paris for half the year, so they're on their way home now for the trial." We followed her into the kitchen. "Do you guys want a beer or something?"

Dean went to answer but Sam got there first. "No, thanks. So, tell us what happened."

"Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn't breathing." She began to cry. "So, he called 911, and the police, they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could've killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police, they have a video. It's from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight."

"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack's house." Sam suggested.

Dean nodded. "We could."

Rebecca frowned. "Why? I mean, what could you do?"

"Well, me, not much. But Dean's a cop."

Dean laughed slightly. "Detective, actually."

"Really?" Dean nodded at her. "Where?"

"Uh, Bisbee, Arizona. But I'm off-duty now."

"You guys, it's so nice to offer, but I just- I don't know."

"Bec, look, I know Zack didn't do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent."

"Okay. I'm gonna go get the keys." She turned and walked away down the hallway.

"Oh, yeah, man, you're a real straight shooter with your friends." Dean muttered to Sam once we were alone again.

Sam shook his head slowly. "Look, Zack and Becky need our help."

"I just don't think this is our kind of problem." Dean replied.

"Two places at once? We've looked into less." Sam said, looking down at me. "What d'you think?"

"I dunno, I mean, maybe he's right, Dean.. It's worth looking into." Dean sighed in defeat, not saying anything.

* * *

**Zach's House, 4:05PM. **

"You're sure this is okay?" Rebecca asked Dean as we stopped outside of her brother's house, looking apprehensive to go inside.

"Yeah. I am an officer of the law." He answered, shooting a look at Sam as he did.

We headed inside, looking around slowly. There was blood everywhere, the furniture slightly out of place and the house a mess. "Bec, you wanna wait outside?" Sam asked. I turned to see her still standing on the porch steps outside.

Rebecca shook her head. "No. I wanna help." She ducked under the police tape at the door and walked further inside

"Tell us what else the police said." Sam pressed.

"Well, there's no sign of a break-in." There were tears in her eyes as she spoke. "They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers- they're already talking about plea bargain." She looked around the room, tears falling down her cheeks. "Oh, God.."

"Look, Bec, if Zack didn't do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?"

Rebecca shook her head slowly while she thought about it, then looked like she'd remembered something. "Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes- Zack's clothes. The police, they don't think it's anything. I mean, we're not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed." Sam walked away somewhere, Dean moving to the open front door, seeing the neighbor's dog which was barking loudly. "You know, that used to be the sweetest dog." Rebecca said, looking over his shoulder.

"What happened?" Dean asked.

She shrugged. "He just changed."

Dean narrowed his eyes and looked over at me. "Do you remember when he changed?" I asked her.

"Uh, I guess around the time of the murder." Dean looked from her to me as he turned away, nodding at me to follow him.

We headed over to Sam who was standing in the hallway of the house, looking at one of the photos on the wall. "So, the neighbor's dog went psycho right around the time Zack's girlfriend was killed." He told Sam.

"Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal." Sam stated, his mind seeming elsewhere.

"Yeah, maybe Fido saw something."

Sam looked at him, raising his eyebrows. "So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?"

"No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure."

"Yeah." Sam agreed.

Dean looked up as Rebecca headed over to us. "So the tape. The security footage- you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, 'cause I just don't have that kind of jurisdiction." He said.

"I've already got it. I didn't wanna say something in front of the cop." Dean only laughed at that. "I stole it off the lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself."

"Alright." He muttered in response. "Well, let's get back and check it out then." He said lightly, turning and making his way to the front door.

* * *

**Rebecca's House, 4:45PM. **

I dropped down beside Sam on the couch, Dean sitting on the arm rest beside me. Rebecca stood behind us, watching the security tape playing on the tv closely. "Here he comes." She said. The tape showed Zach entering his house.

"22:04, that's just after ten." Dean said. "You said time of death was about 10:30?"

Rebecca nodded. "Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape's authentic. It wasn't tampered with."

I looked up at Sam who frowned slightly at the TV. "Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?"

"Oh, sure." She said, turning to head out of the room.

"Maybe some sandwiches, too?" He added.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "What do you think this is, Hooters?" She said as she left the room.

"I wish." Dean muttered, looking up at Sam. "What is it?"

"Check this out." He rewound the tape to the part where Zach walked past, pausing it at the part where he looked directly at the camera, his eyes looking silver.

"Well, maybe it's just a camera flare." Dean suggested, not looking concerned.

"That's not like any camera flare I've ever seen. You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul." He said. "Remember that dog that was freakin' out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack's, something that looks like him but isn't him."

"Like a Doppelganger." I said.

"Yeah. It'd sure explain how he was two places at once."

"Guess so." Dean muttered.

* * *

**The next day, 08:25PM.**

I looked up as I saw Sam and Dean climb out of the Impala further down the street, smiling at the woman I'd been talking to before heading towards them. "What happened here?" Dean asked, looking around the street filled with other people and police officers.

"Apparently this guy tried to kill his wife, tied her up and beat her." I said, looking between them. "I uh, I also talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, he heard this guy, Alex's story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked."

"So, he was two places at once." Sam stated.

"Exactly." I nodded. "Then he sees himself in the house, police think he's a nutjob."

"Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way." Sam said slowly.

"Could be the same thing doing it, too." Dean suggested.

Sam frowned as he thought about it. "Shapeshifter?" He shrugged. "Something that can make itself look like anyone?"

Dean and I both nodded. "We've got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessin' we've got a shapeshifter prowling the neighborhood." Dean said.

"Let me ask you this- in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?" Sam asked, looking around slowly.

Dean shook his head. "Not that I know of."

"I picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way."

"Just like your friend's house." I said.

"Yeah. And, just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared."

I groaned as my eyes fell to the hole in the road, leading down to the sewer. "Well, there's another way to go- down."

Sam and Dean turned, following my eyes to the road. Dean smirked, punching me in the arm. "Sewers, Maxie, your favorite."

I looked up at him and glared. "I swear to god, if we have a repeat of what happened in Ohio, you will be getting stabbed in the face."

Dean only laughed, shaking his head. "Chick has to spend a couple of hours in a sewer and she holds it over you forever."

"A few hours was six hours, Dean. And it's your fault we got stuck in there in the first place."

Dean shrugged. "Least dad got a laugh out of it." He smirked.

I rolled my eyes, looking up at Sam who only shook his head. "I don't even want to know." He said lightly, turning and heading towards the Impala.

I leaned against the edge of the trunk while Dean looked through his weapons. "Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there's one sure way to kill it."

"Silver bullet to the heart." Sam muttered.

"That's right." He grinned, handing me a gun.

Sam looked down as his cell phone rang from his jacket pocket. "Hello?" He answered. "We're near Zack's, we're just checkin' some things out." He said to whoever he was talking to, I guessed Rebecca. Sam frowned a little while he listened to whatever it was that she was saying. "What are you talkin' about?" He listened again, scoffing. "Why would you do that?" He paused again, opening and closing his mouth slightly. "We're tryin' to help." His face fell a little at her next comment. "Bec, I'm sorry, but-" He didn't get another word in before she said something else and hung up the phone.

Dean looked from me to Sam, who looked disappointed. "I hate to say it, but that's exactly what I'm talkin' about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they'd be freaked. It's just, it'd be easier if-"

"If I was like you two." Sam finished for him.

"Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people. But I'll tell you one thing. This whole gig, it ain't without perks." He smirked as he held out a gun to Sam, who shook his head as he shoved it into the back of his jeans.

We climbed down into the sewer, looking around slowly. "I bet this runs right by Zack's house, too. The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around." Sam said quietly.

"I think you're right. Look at this." I turned so see Dean crouched down, a pile of what looked like mixed up blood and skin on the ground in front of him.

"That's gross." I muttered.

"Is this from his victims?" Sam asked as Dean pulled out his pocketknife and held up some of the skin with it.

"You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape- maybe it sheds."

I pulled a face. "That is sick." I said. "Trust you to think of that."

Dean dropped the bloody skin back to the ground and stood up straight, turning to us. "Right, let's find this thing and kill it."

We headed through the sewers for another fifteen minutes, finding nothing. "I think we're close to it's lair." Dean suddenly said.

"Why do you say that?" Sam asked curiously.

"Because there's another puke-inducing pile next to your face." I looked over Dean's shouder as Sam turned to the side and saw another pile of blood and skin right beside his face.

"Oh, God!" He took a step back, a disgusted look on his face.

Dean looked back at me and smirked a little. We walked further on, seeing a bunch of clothes scattered around the place. "Looks like it's lived here for a while." He commented.

"Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with." Sam muttered, turning back to us. Sam's eyes went wide. "Max!" I turned quickly, finding myself face to face with a guy. He held up a fist and punched me hard in the face, sending me falling backwards into Dean. He grabbed a hold of me before I hit the floor before taking a step forwards and being punched in the face himself. He fell to the ground as the shapeshifter turned and ran away from us. Sam shot after it but missed.

Dean pushed himself up, a hand on his arm. "Get the son of a bitch." He muttered. Sam turned and ran after it, closely followed by me and Dean. We chased it out of the sewers and onto the street, coming to a stop and looking around quickly.

"Alright, let's split up." Sam said, looking between us. We both nodded, the three of us taking off in different directions.

I headed down an alley, my gun hidden under the side of my jacket, looking around slowly. It was about twenty minutes later by the time I got back to the Impala, looking around the street slowly without seeing Sam or Dean anywhere. "Awesome." I muttered, looking around helplessly, I didn't know what I was supposed to do from here. I sighed and reached into my jacket pocket for the spare key I had to the car, opening the door and getting inside, pulling out my phone. I called them both, not getting an answer. "That's just awesome." I sighed, dropping down my phone to the seat beside me.

* * *

**30 Minutes Later**

I was about ready to give up, I had no idea what to do anymore, I was running out of places to look for them. I'd checked every bar, the motel room, the sewers, everywhere- and found absolutely nothing. I turned a corner, deciding to head back to the motel room when I saw Dean walking down the street ahead of me, his back facing the car. I slowed down, rolling down the window as I got closer. "Dean!" I yelled. He turned slowly, frowning slightly as I pulled up beside him. "Dude, where the hell have you been? I've been looking for you and Sam for ages."

"Yeah, we uh- I don't know where he is.." He paused and shrugged. "I think he went back to Rebecca's place." I frowned at that, figuring that whatever was going on they'd had some kind of an argument over something.

I glanced over at him as he climbed into the car in silence. "Well," I pressed. "-did you find the shifter?"

"Yeah," He muttered. "-it was in the sewers, shot it in the heart- it's dead."

I narrowed my eyes slightly. "Really?"

"Yeah, really." He said flatly. "What, don't you believe me or something? Go take a look if you want."

I shook my head and started the car again, heading back to the motel room. I walked inside first, leaving Dean to close the door behind himself. I pulled the gun from the back of my jeans and placed it down on the table, pulling off my jacket and tossing to one of the beds. "Man, am I glad that hunt's over." I muttered.

Dean looked over his shoulder at me. "Why'd you say that?"

"Man, you know shapeshifters creep me out, you never know who they are." I said lightly. "I mean, what is it you call them, 'friggin' genetic freaks'."

"Genetic freaks?" He repeated slowly, more to himself than to me. "Hm, maybe.. I mean, evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else." I frowned, absolutely no idea what he was talking about. "You know, everybody needs a little human touch now and then.. It's so hard to be different." I looked over my shoulder for a second, Dean's back was to me, his attention fixed on something outside the window. "It's funny. I kind of understand him." He continued. "He's all alone- close to no one. All he wants is for someone to love him.." His tone was vague, distant. "He's like me."

I paused. "What did you just say?" Before I'd even had the chance to turn around, I felt something hard slam into the back of my head, sending me crashing to the floor unconscious.

* * *

**Motel Room, 11:01PM.**

I blinked open my eyes to find myself tied up to a chair, Dean leaning against the edge of the table in front of me, a hard glare fixed on his face. "Where's Dean?" I mumbled, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in the back of my head.

The shapeshifter smirked, shaking his head. "Silly girl, I am Dean." He said, taking a step towards me and slapping me hard around the face with the back of his hand.

I groaned and looked back to him. "What the hell have you done with my brother?"

"Dean's dead." He said simply. "I'm your brother now."

I shook my head slowly, refusing to believe that. "You're sick." I tried to sound confident, but my voice came out as more of a whisper.

He scoffed, nodding slowly before punching me hard in the cheek. "You're the sick ones." He said coldly. "I swear, the more I learn about you and your family- I thought I came from a bad background."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He stopped suddenly, grabbing his head in pain for a few seconds before he relaxed again. "He's sure got issues with you two. I mean, Sam got to go to college, and let's face it, you were always Dad's favorite, you could've gotten away with anything.. You see, deep down, I'm just jealous. Sam's got friends, he could have a life. And you, fair enough you're in this life now, but in the back of my mind- there's this constant fear you're gonna up and bail just like he did. And then there's dad," He scoffed. "-hell, I did everything he asked me to and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothing, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass.." He punched me in the face again. "But here's the difference between you and me, Maxie, I know I'm a freak. And sooner or later, everybody's gonna leave me-"

"Oh for Christ's sake, shut up." I cut him off.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "You know, I can see everything in his head.. Everything he knows about you, every thought, every memory- it's all up here." I looked away, trying to tug my hands free, feeling the ropes cutting the skin of my wrists. "He uh, he thinks your crazy.. he's terrified you're gonna go off the deep end."

"Shut up." I muttered.

"He isn't going to save you this time, Maxie." He smirked. "And he's going to have to live with that."

I paused and raised an eyebrow. "Hm, I thought you'd already killed him?"

The shifter laughed. "No, I'm not going to kill him- you are."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Haven't you worked it out yet? I guess Sammy really is the brains of this operation, huh?"

"Man, do you like the sound of your own voice." I muttered.

"Dean's going to kill you, and then you're going to kill him." He grinned, pulling out a knife and smirking down at me. I whimpered slightly as he dragged the blade over the skin of my chest, just below my neck, feeling the blood escaping the cut. "Wow, you really are insane, aren't you. Tell me, Maxie, how did it feel to be possessed? How did it feel to watch yourself killing your brother? Beating him to death while he took it, refusing to fight you back." He said as he dragged the knife over my arm. "He's lucky to still be alive." He said, pulling the knife over my other arm. "That's what started all this, right? Your alcohol induced guilt trip?"

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head slowly. "You know, you might look like him, and you might have his mind up there, but buddy, you have absolutely no idea."

"Oh, don't I?" He laughed as he stabbed the knife into my other arm, making a long deep cut over the top of my arm. "You had a bad hunt and then you started to let things scare you. You got weak. Pathetic." He smirked, pushing the knife hard against the skin of my neck, enough to break through the skin. "Maybe we'll just have to toughen you up, huh?" He grinned and punched me hard in the face again. Over and over until I was pretty sure that I had a black eye, a bloody nose, a busted lip and a deep gash on my cheek. "You've never taken a punch from Dean before, have you?" He laughed.

"Where is he?!" I tried to yell, my voice cracked.

He thought about it before shaking his head. "You probably don't want to know."

"I hope for your sake you haven't hurt him, because I swear to god I will rip your heart out myself." I threatened.

"Tough words from the chick tied to the chair." He quipped.

"Oh, go screw yourself."

He laughed slightly. "You know what, Maxie, I think I might go and see your brother, I'll tell him you say hi." He said, returning the knife to his jacket and tying a gag around my mouth. "But don't worry, I'll be back for you." With that, he turned and left, slamming the door closed behind himself.

It was about ten minutes before I managed to pull myself free from the ropes. I grabbed my gun and ran out of the room, looking around the parking lot quickly, without seeing anything. Even the Impala was gone. "Son of a bitch." I muttered. I was covered in blood, I knew that- but I went with my instinct, right now I had to find Sam and Dean, before the shifter did.

* * *

**Twenty minutes later.**

I climbed down into the sewers, running straight to the place where we had been when the shifter had attacked us. "Guys?" I called out as I got closer, trying to see through the dark tunnels, wishing that I'd thought to bring a flashlight.

"Max?!" I heard Sam yell, the relief clear in his voice. "That you?"

"Yeah, it's me." I walked up behind him, finding both him and Dean tied up to wooden posts, making a a move to start untying the ropes around Sam's wrists. "Are you okay?"

"We're fine." Sam muttered.

Before he'd even had a chance to look at me, I walked past him and began untying the ropes holding Dean's wrists. He strained his neck slightly to look around, noticing my bloody clothes. "Maxie? Jesus, what happened to you?"

"You did." I mumbled, cutting through the ropes.

"What?" He stumbled to his feet and grabbed me around the wrist before I had a chance to go anywhere, pulling me around to face him and looking over me slowly. "What happened?" He pressed.

"Shifter, looked like you- we went back to the motel and.." I shrugged. "Ya know."

"Well, he's not stupid. He picked the handsome one." Sam gave a confused look at him before shaking his head.

"That's what I was saying though," Sam said, turning back to Dean. "He didn't just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you."

"Yeah," I nodded. "-he was like that with me. I mean, he knew stuff that it couldn't have known."

Sam nodded. "It was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?"

"Yeah, somethin' like that." Sam agreed. "I mean, maybe that's why he doesn't just kill us."

"Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection."

"Yeah. Come on, we gotta go." He said, turning towards the exit.

Dean nodded, looking down at me, his hand still gripped around my wrist. "You sure you're okay to do this?"

"Dean, it's fine. I've had worse." I smiled.

"I'm gonna kill it. I swear to god, I'm gonna slaughter it."

"Yeah, well we need to find it first, I think it went to Rebecca's- looking like you." I said lightly.

Sam looked between us and sighed. "Come on, we gotta find a phone, call the police." He muttered, turning to leave the sewers.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean stopped him. "You're gonna put an APB out on me."

Sam shrugged, he didn't look all too bothered about it. "Sorry."

* * *

We headed down the street, Sam suddenly coming to a stop outside of a TV store, all the TV's in the window with the same news story on. "..an anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home." A sketch of Dean appeared on the screens.

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "Man, that's not even a good picture." He complained.

Sam looked around us cautiously. "It's good enough." He muttered, turning and walking away. "Come on."

"Man." Dean whined, the two of us following Sam.

"They said attempted murder." Sam stated. "At least we know-"

"I didn't kill her." Dean cut in.

He nodded. "We'll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she's alright."

"Alright, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him." Sam stopped, turning to face him.

"We have no weapons. No silver bullets." He argued.

"Sam, the guy's walking around with my face, okay, it's a little personal, I wanna find him."

Sam sighed in defeat. "Okay. Where do we look?"

"Well, we could start with the sewers." Dean suggested.

"We have no weapons." He said again. "He stole our guns, we need more. The car?"

Dean turned to me. "You drove it to the motel, right?"

"Yeah, but then your evil twin drove off in it, probably to Rebecca's place."

"The news said he fled on foot." Sam reasoned. "I bet it's still parked there."

"The thought of him driving my car. It's killin' me."

"Let it go." Sam muttered.

* * *

We rounded the corner to Rebecca's house, seeing the Impala parked up outside, a grin spreading over Dean's face. "Oh, there she is." He said, relief evident in his voice. "Finally, something went right tonight." We all stopped dead as a police car appeared, parking next to Dean's car. "Oh, crap." He muttered, turning around to see another one parked a few yards away.

Sam nodded towards the fence. "You two go, I'll hold them off."

Dean stopped. "What are you talking about? They'll catch you!"

"Look, they can't hold me. Just go, keep out of sight and meet me at Rebecca's." We both nodded, climbing over the fence. "Stay out of the sewers alone!" He yelled after us as we landed on the other side. "I mean it!" He shouted.

"Yeah, yeah." Dean called back, the two of us taking off down the road.

We slowed down into a walk after a few minutes, Dean stopping outside of a bar. "You fancy a drink?" He muttered.

"I'm sorry, your brother's currently being frisked by a S.W.A.T team, your shady double is lurking around somewhere in town, you are on the news wanted for an attempted murder- and you fancy a drink?"

"Hey, we can't go to Rebecca's because of all the cops outside, which means we can't get any weapons out of the car until they're gone- what else is there to do until the place clears?" I rolled my eyes at him, following him into the bar.

I headed to the bar while Dean walked off and sat at a table towards the back, being sure that no one saw him. "Two beers, please." I muttered to the guy at the bar. He looked me up and down, raising an eyebrow at the blood still covering me.

"You alright?" He asked, placing the beers on the bar.

I looked down at myself and smiled. "Been a rough day." I said lightly, dropping ten bucks on the bar before heading back towards Dean, handing him one of the bottles as I sat down opposite him.

"Thanks." He muttered, taking a drink of the beer. Neither of us said anything for a couple of minutes before Dean cleared his throat. "Hey, Max? When you said that he knew stuff, the shifter, what did he know?"

"Everything." I said. "I mean, he knew about Sam, our past- the possession."

"Oh, jeez." He shook his head slowly. "And then he said that apparently you think I'm crazy and that you're terrified I'm not far from going off the deep end." I finished lightly. "Which I don't think is all that far from the truth."

"Maxie, I don't think you're crazy, you know that. I just- I worry about you sometimes."

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I know you do, but you really don't need to."

Dean shrugged. "You say it like it's gonna stop me."

"Right." I laughed, nodding slowly. "Hey, Dean? Do you think Sam had a point, when he said we were kinda anti-social? I mean, if you think about it, we don't really talk to many other people.."

He thought about it and shrugged. "Maybe, but I stand by that point, you can't get close to people in this job."

"I know, it's just-" I stopped, not sure what I meant.

"Hey, we've got each other, right? When it comes down to it, there's alway us." He said seriously.

I nodded, thinking back to what the shifter had said, about Dean being freaked I was going to bail on him. I didn't know whether I believed that or not, but he'd known other stuff that had been true. "You know I'm not going anywhere, right?"

Dean frowned. "Yeah, course. What makes you say that?"

"I dunno, I just- thought I'd make sure you knew that."

He smiled a little, looking confused. "Well, thanks." He said, drinking the last of his beer. "Alright, come on, we better get out of here." I nodded and finished the beer, standing up and heading over to the door, walking out onto the cold street after him.

Within five minutes we were back at the Impala, parked on the now deserted road. Dean opened the trunk and pulled out a gun, checking the bullets. "Look, Dean, maybe Sam was right-"

"He said don't go into the sewers alone, I'm not alone." He smirked and handed me the gun. "I've got you." He pulled out his own gun before he closed the trunk and turned, heading down the street towards the entrance to the sewer.

We climbed down into the tunnels, the two of us looking around slowly. "Split up?" I suggested.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, just-"

"Be careful, I know." I muttered. "You too." He nodded at me and turned, walking off in the opposite direction.

I glanced down at the ground, blood and skin all over the floor. I turned a corner, coming to a brighter room, lit with candles. I turned quickly at the sound of a soft whimper coming from behind me, seeing a figure covered with a sheet. "Dean!" I yelled over my shoulder before I reached out and pulled it off them, Rebecca's terrified and bloody face meeting mine. "Rebecca?" I began untying the ropes around her wrists.

Dean appeared from the tunnel, looking around slowly. "What is it?" He asked, walking further inside and seeing Rebecca. "What happened?"

She began crying softly. "I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that_ thing_ turn into me. I don't know, how is that even possible?"

"Okay, okay. It's okay." I said calmly, pulling the last of the rope from her wrists. "Come on. Can you walk?" She nodded slowly. "Okay, we've gotta hurry. Sam went to see you."

The three of us left the sewers and made our way to Rebecca's house, running inside to find Sam lying on the floor and the shapeshifter, looking like Dean again, choking him. "Hey!" Dean yelled. The shifter looked up and got off Sam, making a move towards him. Dean aimed his gun and shot him in the heart twice, the shifter falling to the ground, dead.

Rebecca made her way over to Sam, crouching beside him while Dean took a step towards the shifter, reaching down and tugging his necklace from around its neck.

* * *

**Rebecca's House, the next day, 09:23AM.**

Dean spread a map over the trunk of the Impala, looking over it slowly. "So, where'd you wanna go?" He asked brightly.

I looked away from Sam and Rebecca, shrugging slightly. "I dunno, where do you wanna go?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

I glanced over as Rebecca waved as me and Dean, both of us giving a small wave back as Sam headed over to us. "So, what about your friend, Zack?"

Sam smirked lightly. "Cops are blaming this Dean Winchester guy for Emily's murder. They found the murder weapon in the guy's lair, Zack's clothes stained with her blood. Now they're thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon. " He smiled.

"Dude, you're a felon." I grinned up at him. "You know what that means?"

Dean rolled his eyes, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out ten bucks. "You suck, you know that?"

"I always knew they'd get you before they got me."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you made a bet who'd get arrested first?"

"No, we made a bet on who'd have their face plastered all over the news first." Dean muttered, glaring at me.

"Because Dean said that I was incompetent and that I couldn't outrun the law if my life depended on it."

Sam laughed. "My god, you're idiots, you know that?"

Dean shrugged lightly, tossing the map into the backseat. "Max is the idiot, not me."

We both laughed and climbed into the car after him, Dean driving off down the road and towards the edge of town. None of us spoke for a while, just stared off out of the windows. "I'm sorry, man." Dean said quietly, breaking the silence.

Sam looked over at him and frowned slightly. "About what?"

"I really wish things could be different, you know?" He glanced over at him for a second before returning his eyes to the road. "I wish you could just be.. Joe College.. maybe Maxie too."

I laughed a little, shaking my head. "No, that's okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in." Sam said quietly.

"Well, that's 'cause you're a freak." Dean smirked, patting him on the knee.

Sam scoffed. "Yeah, thanks."

"Well, I'm a freak, too. And we won't even go into how much of a freak Max is." He smirked. "We're right there with ya, all the way."

"Yeah," Sam smiled. "-I know you are."

"Hey, aren't you sorry you're gonna miss it?" I asked Dean.

He looked at me through the mirror and raised an eyebrow. "Miss what?"

"How many chances are you gonna get to see your own funeral?" He and Sam smirked, Dean laughing as he continued to drive.

* * *

**01:54PM, Impala. **

I closed my phone slowly bringing down from my ear, unsure of what was going on. Part of me wanted to cry, a part of me wanted to laugh- I didn't know. I climbed out of the car to where Sam was standing putting gas into it, Dean walking out of the store. "Dean, c'mere." I yelled.

He frowned and made his way over to us, dropping his food through the window. "What's up?"

"When was the last time you tried to call dad?" I asked seriously.

Dean looked confused. "Uh, about a couple of weeks ago, why?"

"Call him." He looked from me to Sam, raising an eyebrow. "Just, do it."

Dean sighed and pulled out his phone, pressing the speaker button. It rang a couple of times before a message played. _"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help."_

He looked slightly taken aback, we'd never gotten through before, we'd assumed he didn't have that phone anymore. Sam, however, looked furious, shaking his head and climbing into the car again.

"He's alive, Dean." I said quietly, all hope that I'd lost of finding him coming back. "I know it."

Dean let out a shaky smile, nodding. "What did I tell you, hm? He's fine. We're gonna find him, Maxie. I promise."

* * *

_AH! So, we've found out a little more about Max's past, so there's a little hint for you all. I know I'm a tease, do you hate me yet? ;-) But there will be some real answers next chapter, I promise! You'll finally find about more about what happened between Max and Dean while Sam was away, which means more Max/Dean moments, because I know how much you all love them! And as always, thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, favoriting and following, the support means everything! Love you guys!Also, I can't remember who it was that asked me, but the other day someone said to me, 'do you have brothers that you base the relationship on?' And no, I don't haha, I'm an only child. But, I do have two cousins who are 24 and 29, so pretty much the same age gap between them that Sam and Dean have, and they do treat me a lot like Sam and Dean treat Max. So maybe sometimes I base some of the older brother kinda thing on that, I don't know.. Just a little fun fact about myself there for you ;-) Anyway, thank you again for the support and I'll hopefully see you next chapter!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Diner, 09:45AM. **

I pushed open the glass door to the small and almost full diner, looking around the room slowly before seeing Dean sitting in one of the booths, an empty plate in front of him and a pen in his mouth as he focused on reading the newspaper on the table. I headed towards him, running a hand over my tired face as I did, I'd slept all night and I still felt exhausted. "Morning." I mumbled as I dropped down heavily into the seat opposite from him, looking down at the paper and raising an eyebrow, realising I didn't have the energy to even attempt to find out what he'd been reading about. There was an article circled, I guessed something we'd be checking out once we left town.

Dean looked up at me as I sat down, a small smirk forming on his face. "Oh look," He grinned. "She lives." I could almost see the amusement in his smile, knowing without asking that I looked like some kind of half dead zombie.

I scoffed at his comment and let out a short laugh. "Yeah, thanks for grabbing breakfast without us, bro." I said lightly, reaching out for his half empty cup of black coffee and taking a drink. "Real sweet of you."

Dean shrugged. "Well, you both looked like you could do with the sleep." He reasoned, leaning back in his seat and looking over at me seriously, an expression he seemed to have been using a lot recently.

I smiled briefly, not wanting to get involved with that conversation again, looking around the room casually. "Hey, you know the waitress over there is totally checking you out, right?" I smirked at him, rolling my eyes at the smug grin spreading over his face as she headed over towards our table. He gave me a knowing look before turning his attention to her, a smile playing on his face. Right at the point Dean was deliver her some god awful pick up line, Sam walked into the diner, heading over to the table. I could see in his face, with the way his body was tensed, how stressed out he was.

I looked from him, back to the waitress who didn't seem far from bending over the table so Dean could get even more of a view down her shirt, and rolled my eyes slightly. "So, can I get you anything else?" The waitress asked brightly, a small smile on her face, her attention fixed solely on Dean.

"Just the check, please." Sam muttered as he took a seat beside me, barely giving her a second glance.

"Okay." She said, turning and walking away from us, a slight hint of disappointment on her face.

"You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while." Dean said lightly, pointing over at where the waitress was now standing by another table. "That's fun." Sam didn't bother to give him an answer, just looked at him until Dean accepted he wasn't getting a rise out of him and caved, a slight sigh escaping him as he picked up the newspaper and moved it in front of us. "Here, take a look at this." He continued brightly, the smile returning to his face. "I think I got one." I glanced down at the circled article, skimming over it before looking back to Dean. "Oasis Plains, Oklahoma, not too far from here.. Some guy died from something.. I don't know.." He trailed off and shrugged, taking a drink of his coffee. "That's Sam's department."

Sam pulled the paper closer to himself and read the article properly. "So," He began after a couple of minutes of silence. "Basically, this gas company employee, Dustin Burwash, supposedly died from Creutzfedt."

Even Dean, who was supposed to have read the article, looked lost at that. "He died from what?" I asked, looking between Dean and Sam, raising an eyebrow.

Sam just looked at me, like I was supposed to know what the hell that meant. "Human mad cow disease." He answered simply.

"Mad cow?" Dean repeated, frowning slightly. "Wasn't that on Oprah?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You watch Oprah?" He asked, a note of disbelief in his voice. I let out a slight laugh, Dean shooting me a look, warning me to keep my mouth shut. He looked back to Sam, seeming unable to think of anything to say to that.

"So anyway," I began, changing the subject. "This guy eats a bad burger, why is it our kind of thing?"

"Well, mad cow disease causes massive brain degeneration. I mean, it takes months, even years, for the damage to appear." Sam explained, looking back down to the paper. "But this guy, Dustin, it sounds like his brain disintegrated in about an hour, maybe less."

I nodded slowly. "Okay, that does sound a little weird."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "So, it could be a disease, or it could be something much nastier. But we ain't gonna find out anything sitting here, are we?" He said as he pushed himself up, dropping some money down onto the table before making his way over towards the door, Sam and me following him.

* * *

**04:30PM, Oasis Plains, Oklahoma. **

Dean pulled over the Impala, coming to a stop outside of the gas company building. There weren't many people around, just a couple of guys who gave us an odd look as we climbed out of the car. I followed Sam and Dean over the grass towards where a guy was leaning against the back of his truck. "Travis Weaver?" Sam asked as we got closer.

He looked between us slowly and nodded. "Yeah, that's right." He answered.

Dean smiled at him. "Are you the Travis who worked with uncle Dusty?" Sometimes I wondered why people never questioned us when we said stuff like that.

He raised an eyebrow slightly. "Dustin never mentioned you." He stated.

"Really? Well, he sure mentioned you." Dean continued. "He said you were the greatest."

Sam and I both nodded at him. "Oh, he did?" He smiled. "Huh."

"Listen, we wanted to ask you, what exactly happened out there?" Dean pressed.

"I'm uh, I'm not sure. He fell in a sinkhole, I went to the truck to get some rope, and, uh.. By the time I got back.." He trailed off shaking his head slowly.

"What did you see?" Sam questioned.

"Nothing. Just Dustin.. And he was bleeding, from his eyes and his ears, his nose.. But that's it." He answered.

"So, you think it could be this whole mad cow thing?" Sam asked curiously.

"I don't know. That's what the doctors are saying." He didn't sound convinced by what he was saying. Sometimes I felt sorry for people like him. Who knew deep down that something horrible had happened but were forced to accept an explanation to it that they didn't really believe.

"But if it was, he would've acted strange beforehand, like dementia, loss of motor control.." I didn't even know how Sam knew stuff like that. "You ever notice anything like that?"

"No, no way. But then again, if it wasn't some disease, what the hell was it?"

Dean shrugged. "That's a good question." He muttered.

"You know, can you tell us where this happened?" Sam asked him.

"Yeah." Travis nodded slowly, pushing himself off of his truck and heading off in another direction. The three of us followed him until he came to a stop at some police tape, set up in a square around a hole in the ground. "This is it." He said quietly. "I'll leave you to it."

"Sure, thanks." Dean answered, watching him walk away before we ducked under the tape and looked down into the hole. "Huh," Dean muttered, looking up at us. "What do you think?"

I shrugged, shaking my head without an answer, looking up at Sam. "I don't know." He commented. "But if that guy, Travis, was right, it happened pretty damn fast."

Dean reached into his jacket and pulled out a flashlight, shining it down into the hole. "So, what?" He asked. "Some sort of creature chewed on his brain?"

Sam shook his head. "No, there'd be entry wounds. Sounds like this thing worked from the inside."

"Alright, well it looks like there's only room for one." Dean said, a smirk spreading over his face as he looked down at me.

"Oh, no way." I said, taking a step back and shaking my head. "Not gonna happen." Dean just looked at me, the smirk holding on his face while he raised his eyebrows at me. "Why should I go?"

"C'mon, Maxie, you're the skinniest." He grinned. "You'd fit down there easily."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Dude, it's hardly a small hole, you or Sam could get down there easy."

Dean rolled his eyes at me. "You're such a girl, Max." He muttered, turning to Sam. "You wanna flip a coin?"

Sam just looked at him, a frown forming on his face. "Dean, we have no idea what's down there." He protested.

Dean sighed lightly and moved to pick up some rope from the other side of the tape, ducking back under it and peering down the hole again. "Alright, I'll go if you're scared." He said with a smile, glancing up at him. "You scared?"

Sam shook his head at him. "Flip the damn coin."

Dean chuckled to himself, reaching into his jeans pocket for a coin. "Okay, call it in the air, chicken." He flipped it, Sam catching it easily in midair.

"I'm going." He said flatly.

Dean held out his arms slightly, raising his eyebrows. "I said I'd go."

Sam only shook his head, taking the rope and beginning to tie it around his waist. "I'm going." He said again.

Dean raised an eyebrow at me, then let out a small laugh. "Alright." He answered.

Sam sighed and finished tying the knot around his stomach, looking down the hole again. "Don't drop me." Dean rolled his eyes and smirked down at me.

We waited a few minutes, giving Sam a chance to take a look around before Dean looked at me and shrugged slightly. "Hey," I called down to Sam. "You found anything?"

"Uh, maybe, pull me up." Dean pulled the rope while Sam climbed his way out, holding out his hand and showing us a dead beetle. "Found this." He muttered. For a minute, I thought he was kidding, but his face remained serious. He looked from my clueless face to Dean's. "C'mon, I'll explain in the car." He said, turning and ducking under the tape, heading back to the Impala.

We climbed into the car, Sam still not having said anything. As Dean started the car, I looked over Sam's shoulder at the dead beetle he was now examining in his hand, a curious frown on his face. "I don't get it." I eventually said, realising that no one else was going to.

Dean looked away from the road for a second to Sam. "Yeah, you found some beetles, in a hole, in the ground." He stated. "It's shocking, Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes. "There were no tunnels, no tracks. No evidence of any other kind of creature down there. You know, some beetles do eat meat. Now, it's usually dead meat, but-"

"How many did you find down there?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him, a smile playing on my face.

"Ten." He said flatly.

"It'd take a whole lot more than that to eat out some dude's brain." Dean countered.

"Well, maybe there were more." Sam argued.

"I don't know," Dean muttered. "Seems like a stretch to me."

"Well, we need more information on the area, the neighborhood, whether something like this has ever happened before." Sam said to us.

"I know a good place to start." Dean answered, a small smirk on his face. Sam and I both looked out of the window, seeing what Dean was getting at. There was a sign for an open house, the garden outside decorated with red balloons. "I'm kinda hungry for a little barbeque, how about you?" He grinned as we passed another sign. Sam only looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "What," He asked defensively. "We can't talk to the locals?"

"And the free food's got nothing to do with it?" I muttered from the backseat, letting out a laugh.

"Of course not. I'm a professional." He smirked.

Sam rolled his eyes at him. "Right."

Dean grinned as he pulled over the car, the three of us climbing out and heading over the street towards the house. "You know, growing up in a place like this would freak me out." Dean commented as we crossed over the lawn to the front door.

Sam frowned a little. "Why?" He asked.

"Well, manicured lawns, 'How was your day, honey?', I'd blow my brains out." Dean said lightly.

"There's nothing wrong with normal." Sam answered, sounding almost defensive over it.

"I'd take our family over normal any day." He replied.

Sam didn't answer him as we came to a stop at the door, Dean knocking lightly and waiting. The door opened, a guy smiling as he looked between them. "Welcome." He said brightly.

"This the barbeque?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, not the best weather, but.." He trailed off. "I'm Larry Pike, the developer here." He introduced himself. "So, you two are interested in Oasis Plains?"

"Yes, sir." Dean answered enthusiastically.

"Let me just say, we accept homeowners of any race, religion, colour, or.. sexual orientation." I couldn't help but laugh at that, apparently drawing attention to myself from Larry as he looked behind Sam to me, seemingly having not realised I'd been there.

Dean just looked from him to Sam and shook his head. "We're brothers." He said flatly. "Sam and Dean." He said pointing between them. "And this is Max, the sister."

He looked a little embarrassed, Sam smiling slightly. "Our father is getting on in years, and we're just looking for a place for him."

"Great, great." Larry grinned. "Well, seniors are welcome, too. Come on in."

The three of us followed him inside of the house and then outside to the backyard. There were people all around the garden, talking to each other or walking around. "You said you were the developer?" Sam pressed, looking at Larry.

"Eighteen months ago, I was walking this valley with my survey team, there was nothing here but scrub brush and squirrels. And you know what, we bulit such a nice place to live that I actually bought into it myself. This is our house, we're the first family in Oasis Plains." He said as he came to a stop beside a blonde haired woman. "This is my wife, Joanie." He introduced her. "This is Max, Sam and Dean."

"Hi there," She smiled at us. "Nice to meet you."

"Tell them how much you love the place, honey. And lie if you have to because I need to sell some houses." Larry said to her, the three of us laughing awkwardly. "Will you excuse me?" He added before smiling at us and walking away.

"Don't let his salesman routine scare you, this really is a great place to live." I took a step over towards the table beside us, picking up a brochure for the housing estates, flipping through random pages like I was remotely interested. I thought back to what Dean had said, I think that growing up in a place like this would've freaked me out, too. I couldn't imagine doing the same thing every single day of my life. Same job, same house, same routine. I'd be bored out of my mind after a couple of weeks of it. After the way we'd grown up, I didn't think I'd be able to hack living somewhere like this. And sometimes, I didn't get how Sam thought he could either.

I glanced up as a very energetic looking woman, her hair pulled back in a tight bun, headed over towards Sam and Dean. I listened to what was going on behind me, as the woman got closer. "Hi, I'm Lynda Bloome, head of sales." She grinned at them.

"And Lynda was second to move in," Joanie said to Sam and Dean. "She's a very noisy neighbor though." She said lightly as she turned and headed off in the way her husband had gone.

Lynda laughed slightly. "She's kidding, of course." She said, looking between them. "I take it you two are interested in becoming homeowners?" She asked.

"Well.." Dean began, looking around uncomfortably.

"Y-yeah." Sam answered for them.

"Well, let me just say that we accept homeowners of any race, religion, colour, or.." She paused for a second, I smirked, knowing what was coming, seeing the look on their faces. "Sexual orientation." She finished brightly.

Dean looked down and chuckled slightly. "Right." He muttered. "Um, I'm gonna go talk to Larry." He said, looking up at Sam. "Kay, honey?" He added, smacking Sam on the ass as he passed, leaving Sam and Lynda in a clearly uncomfortable silence.

I laughed to myself, shaking my head as I walked away, earning me a glare from Sam as he stood there being talked to about steam showers. I looked around the garden slowly, looking for anyone who looked even a little interesting to talk to, someone who wasn't in their forties or trying to sell us a house. My eyes fell to a teenager, seemingly standing and laughing to himself about something. I walked up behind him, my curiosity getting the better of me, seeing him laughing as a tarantula crawled slowly towards the hand of the woman Sam was talking to. "Having fun?" I asked lightly, making him jump.

He turned quickly to face me, looking like he'd realised I wasn't there to say anything about it. "Didn't see you there." He said.

"Yeah, I can be quite sneaky." I smirked. "What's your name?"

"Matt." He said with a smile. "You?"

"Max." I answered, looking back to the spider. "Who's your friend?"

Before he had a chance to answer, Sam pushed Lynda lightly out of the way and picked up the spider, taking a couple of steps towards us. "This yours?" He asked him. He looked from Matt to me, my smirk fading slightly at his glare. "How old are you again?" I didn't answer, just rolled my eyes at him.

Matt reached out and took the spider from Sam. "You gonna tell my dad?" He asked.

"I don't know," Sam answered. "Who's your dad?"

Matt scoffed. "Yeah, Larry usually skips me in the family introductions." He muttered.

"Ouch. First name basis with the old man," I commented. "Sounds pretty grim."

"Well, I'm not exactly brochure material." He said flatly.

I smiled a little and shrugged. "You ever get the feeling that the people they put in those brochures are pretty boring anyway?" Matt smiled at that, nodding slowly.

"Hey, just hang in there alright?" Sam said to him. "It gets better, I promise."

He scoffed again. "When?"

"Matthew." We all turned at the sound of the sharp voice, seeing Dean and Larry heading over the lawn towards us. "I am so sorry about my son and his.. pet." He said to me and Sam, clearly annoyed.

"It's no bother." Sam said lightly.

"Excuse us." Larry muttered, shaking his head as he and Matt walked away.

"Remind you of someone?" Sam said to us. Dean and I glanced over at where Larry was yelling at Matt. I sighed, knowing exactly where this was heading. Dean only looked back to Sam, a confused frown on his face, clearly not getting it. "Dad?" He pressed.

Dean shook his head. "Dad never treated us like that." He said flatly.

"Well, Dad never treated you or Max like that, you two were perfect." He muttered. "He was all over my case." Neither of us said anything to him, Sam's eyes remained fixed on Dean's. "You really don't remember?"

Dean shrugged. "Well, maybe he had to raise his voice, but sometimes, you were out of line."

"Right." Sam scoffed. "Like when I said I'd rather play soccer that learn bowhunting." He stated.

"Bowhunting's an important skill." Dean countered.

"Whatever." Sam mumbled, rolling his eyes at him. Dean only shaking his head.

"How was your tour anyway?" I asked Dean, changing the subject before either of them had a chance to think up something else to say.

"Oh, it was excellent." He said sarcastically. "I'm ready to buy." Sam and I both laughed a little. "Think I might have found something though. Looks like Dustin Burwash wasn't the first strange death around here.. About a year ago, before they broke ground, one of Larry's surveyors dropped dead while on the job. Get this, severe allergic reaction to bee stings."

"More bugs." Sam said quietly.

Dean nodded. "More bugs." He repeated.

"Awesome." I muttered. "So now what?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno." He said, looking around slowly. "But I vote that we get out of here." Sam and I both nodded at him, turning and heading back towards the house.

It was already getting dark by the time we left, the air now cool and the sky a dark grey. Sam drove the Impala through the quiet neighborhood, I presumed looking out for a motel, while Dean looked through Dad's journal. "You know, I've heard of killer bees, but killer beetles?" He flipped another couple of pages and shook his head. "What is it that could make different bugs attack?"

"Well, hauntings sometimes include bug manifestations." Sam suggested.

"Yeah, but I didn't see any evidence of ghost activity." Dean countered.

"Well, maybe they're being controlled somehow?" Both Sam and Dean looked back at me. "You know, by something.. or someone."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You mean, like Willard?"

"Yeah," Dean said lightly. "Bugs instead of rats."

"There are cases of psychic connections between people and animals," Sam said. "Elementals, telepaths."

"Yeah, that whole Timmy-Lassie thing. " He paused, clearly thinking it over for a few seconds before something hit him. "Larry's kid, he's got bugs for pets."

"Matt?" Sam frowned but then shrugged. "He did try to scare the realtor with a tarantula."

"You think he's our Willard?" Dean asked, closing Dad's journal before looking back to Sam.

"I don't know. " Sam answered. "Anything's possible, I guess."

"Ooh, hey. " Dean suddenly said. "Pull over here."

Sam slowed down the car and pulled into the empty driveway of one of the houses, looking around slowly. "What are we doing here?" He asked Dean who was already climbing out of the car and heading over the driveway.

"It's too late to talk to anybody else." He called back, reaching down and opening up the door to the garage.

Sam raised his eyebrows at him. "We're gonna squat in an empty house?" He pressed, a note of disbelief in his voice.

"I wanna try the steam shower, come on!" Sam still didn't move. "Come on!"

Sam shook his head, reluctantly starting the car and driving into the garage, sticking his arm out of the window as he passed Dean and punching him in the stomach. Dean pulled the garage door down after us and smirked, like he was proud of himself for thinking it up. "Dude, seriously, this has got to be a whole new low for us." I said to him, shaking my head as Sam and I climbed out of the Impala.

Dean only laughed. "C'mon, Maxie, we've sunk so much lower than this in our time." He smirked. "Remember when we went to Vegas for your twenty-first?"

"Or Nevada? I mean, you remember the mess you got us into the last time we took a hunt there there?" I smirked up at him.

Dean grinned, giving me a knowing look. "Alright, let me set the record straight here, I thought that the cop was a prostitute."

"Right," I rolled my eyes at him. "Course you did."

Sam just looked at me, then at Dean, shaking his head slowly. "I don't even want to know." He said as he turned and opened the door that led to the house. Dean punched me lightly in the arm, letting out a laugh as we followed him.

* * *

**The next morning.**

I glanced up from the magazine I'd been reading as Sam walked into the room, looking serious about something. His eyes scanned the room quickly before pausing at me. "Where's Dean?" He asked.

"Uh, I think he's in the shower." I answered with a shrug, I hadn't seen him in over an hour now.

Sam only frowned. "Still?"

I shrugged again, putting down the magazine as Sam headed out of the room, following him. "What's going on?" I asked, heading up the stairs after him.

He stopped at the bathroom door, banging on it with the side of his fist. "You ever coming out of there?" He called through the door.

There was a small bang from inside. "What?!" Dean yelled back through the door.

"Dean, a police call came in on the scanner." Sam called, looking down at me and shaking his head impatiently. "Someone was found dead three blocks from here, come on!"

"Hold on!" There was the sound of more movement inside the bathroom, followed by Dean pulling open the door, steam pouring out through the gap. I couldn't help but let out a laugh at the sight of him. He stood at the door, eyebrows raised, with a towel around his head and another around his waist. "This shower is awesome." He grinned.

Sam rolled his eyes, looking like he was hiding a smirk of his own. "Come on." He said, turning and heading off downstairs.

Dean looked down at me, raising an eyebrow. I shook my head and laughed. "Dude, you're such a girl sometimes, you know that?" He smirked and flicked some water at me before closing the door in my face.

* * *

**30 Minutes Later**

The three of us climbed out of the Impala, seeing Larry standing on the street, talking to someone on the phone. We looked towards the house where some paramedics were bringing out a body bag, heading towards the ambulance waiting on the street. He finished up his call as we got closer, giving us a small smile. "Hello," He said lightly. "You're, uh, back early."

"Yeah," Dean answered. "We just drove in, wanted to take another look at the neighborhood.. What's going on?"

Larry looked slightly uncomfortable. "You met, uh, Lynda Bloome at the barbeque?" We nodded slowly. "Well, she, uh, passed away last night."

"What happened?" Dean pressed curiously.

"I'm still trying to find that out. Identified the body for the police." He sighed slightly, glancing back at the house. "Look, I-I'm sorry, this isn't a good time now."

"It's okay." I gave him a weak smile.

"Excuse me." He turned and headed off down the street.

"You know what we have to do, right?" Dean said to us once Larry was far enough away that he wouldn't be able to hear us.

"Yeah." Sam answered. "We gotta get in that house."

"See if we have a bug problem." Dean finished.

We headed around to the back of the house, climbing over the fence and up the side of the house, getting inside throught the bedroom window. We walked further inside towards the bathroom where the outline of Lynda's body was drawn on the floor. "This looks like the place." Dean muttered. Sam and I stayed where we were as Dean crouched down, picking up a towel lying on the floor, quickly dropping it again when he saw that it was covered in spiders. "Spiders." He stated. "From spider boy?" He suggested.

"Matt?" Sam muttered. "Maybe."

Dean sighed and stood up again. "Well, I say we find him and we have a little chat with him."

* * *

**Impala, 3:30PM**

"Guys, you realise here that we're kinda stalking a kid, right?" I said, looking ahead out of the window at the school bus we were following. "It's kinda creepy."

Dean only laughed to himself, shaking his head. "Well, you are a creep, Maxie." He smirked. "Everybody knows that."

"Yeah, says the guy who's driving after a school bus." I muttered, rolling my eyes at him.

He pulled over the car to the side of the road as the bus came to a stop, Matt getting off and walking away down the road. "Isn't his house that way?" Dean said, pointing in the opposite direction to which Matt was walking.

"Yup." Sam answered him lightly.

"Huh." Dean muttered. "So where's he going?"

None of us said anything as we climbed out of the car, heading over the road and following where he walked through some trees. We walked for a few minutes before eventually catching up to where he was standing, looking like he was examining a grasshopper. He turned at the sound of us heading up behind him, looking between us slowly. "Hey, Matt." Sam said lightly. "Remember us?"

"What are you doing out here?" He asked curiously, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Well, we wanna talk to you." Dean said brightly.

"You're not here to buy a house, are you?" He said slowly. We all shook our heads. "W-wait.. You're not serial killers?"

"No, no.. I think you're safe." Sam assured him.

"So, Matt," Dean began. "You sure know a lot about insects." Matt just looked at him, obviously not following. "Did you hear what happened to Lynda, the realtor?"

Matt nodded. "I hear she died this morning."

"Mm, that's right.." He answered. "Spider bites."

"Matt, you tried to scare her with a spider." Sam continued slowly.

Matt paused, looking between the three of us slowly. "Wait, you think that I had something to do with that?"

"You tell us." Dean pressed.

"That tarantula was a joke, and anyway, that wouldn't explain the bee attack or the gas company guy." He reasoned.

"Wait," I said, raising my eyebrows at him. "You know about those?"

"There is something going on here. I don't know what.. but something is happening with the insects." He sighed and looked over his shoulder. "Let me show you something." He grabbed his backpack from the ground and turned, heading off in another direction.

"So, if you know about all this bug stuff, why not tell your dad?" Sam asked as we followed him through the woods. "Maybe he could clear everybody out."

"Believe me, I've tried, but, uh, Larry doesn't listen to me." He answered glumly. "You know, mostly, I think he's just disappointed in his freak son."

Sam scoffed. "I hear you."

Both Dean and I looked up at him at that. "You do?" Dean pressed. Sam turned and gave him a look before turning back ahead.

"Matt, how old are you?" He asked.

"Sixteen." He muttered.

"Well, don't sweat it, because in two years something great's going to happen." Oh god, I could see what was coming here. And there was no doubt it was ending in an argument. "College. You'll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad."

Even for Sam, that was harsh. I wouldn't have blamed the kid for telling Sam to shove it himself, he knew nothing about Matt's life. Dean shook his head. "What kind of advice is that?" He asked Sam. "Kid should stick with his family."

Sam sighed, shooting a glare back at Dean. "How much further, Matt?" He asked.

"We're close." He answered, turning and continuing walking. Sam shot another glare back at Dean, and then me, like he was warning me to keep my mouth shut too, before he followed him. Dean simply shook his head again, clearly pissed off, before carrying on. "I've been keeping track of the insect populations," Matt went on. "It's, um, part of an AP science class-"

"You two are like peas in a pod." Dean commented, shooting a look at Sam.

Sam only ignored him. "What's been happening?" He pressed.

"A lot. I mean, from bees to earthworms, beetles.. you name it. It's like they're congregating here." He said. "I don't know why."

"What's that?" Sam asked. We all turned to where Sam was pointing to a dark patch of grass a few feet away. We headed towards it, finding hundreds of worms.

"That's gross." I muttered.

Dean stepped forwards, creating a hole where the worms were before crouching down and picking up a stick, poking around in the hole. "There's something down there." He muttered, tossing the stick to the ground. He made some disgusted expression as he stuck his arm into the hole, feeling around for a few seconds before pulling out a human skull and looking up at us.

"What the hell?" Matt said quietly, looking between us.

"Something's going on." Sam said. "We need to find out where those bones came from.

* * *

**One Hour Later **

Dean pulled over the Impala outside of a local university, the three of us climbing out of the car and looking around slowly. Sam went to the backseat and pulled out the box of bones we'd found, covering them with his jacket before we headed off towards the building. "So, a bunch of skeletons in an unmarked grave." Sam stated.

"Yeah, maybe this is a haunting." Dean suggested. "Pissed off spirits? Some unfinished business?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Question is, why bugs? And why now?"

"That's two questions." Dean muttered. Sam ignored him, carrying on walking. I looked up at Dean, he was clearly holding back something that he wanted to get off his chest, like he was trying to stop himself from saying it. "Yeah, so with that kid back there," He began after a few seconds. "Why'd you tell him to just ditch his family like that?"

"Just, uh.. I know what the kid's going through." He answered, not looking phased by Dean's tone.

"How 'bout telling him to respect his old man?" Dean countered. "How's that for advice?"

I sighed, every damn time Sam mentioned Dad it ended in this. "Dean, come on." We stopped walking, Sam and Dean now staring right at each other. "This isn't about his old man. You think I didn't respect Dad. That's what this is about."

"Just forget it, alright?" Dean answered, looking as though he was sick of the same fight too. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

For a second I thought they were done, but then Sam carried on. "I respected him." He said flatly. "But no matter what I did, it was never good enough."

"So what are you saying? Huh?" Dean pressed. "That Dad was disappointed in you?"

"Was?" Sam repeated. "Is.. Always will be."

Dean shook his head. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I didn't wanna bowhunt or hustle pool - because I wanted to go to school and live my life, which, in our whacked out family, made me the freak." He answered, sounding slightly resentful.

"Yeah, you were kinda like the blonde chick in the Munsters." Dean said lightly.

"Dean, you know what most dads are when their kids score a full ride? Proud." Sometimes I wondered if Sam ever got tired of repeating the same lines over and over. I loved him, but sometimes when he acted like he was the only victim in all of this, it wound me up. "Most dads don't toss their kids out of the house."

"I remember that fight." Dean answered, turning defensive. "In fact, I seem to recall a few choice phrases coming out of your mouth."

Surprise, surprise, Sam chose not to answer that part. "You know, truth is, when we finally do find Dad.. I don't even know if he's gonna wanna see me."

"Sam, give it a rest, will you?" I finally spoke up. Both Sam and Dean looked down at me, seeming shocked. I never got involved in these types of conversations, I always left it to them. But this whole thing was getting out of hand and it wasn't about to stop anytime soon. "Dad was never disappointed in you, never. He was scared." I never understood how Sam hadn't been able to work that one out for himself.

Sam frowned at me. "What are you talking about?"

"He was afraid of what could've happened to you if he wasn't around." I said seriously, looking him straight in the face. "But, you know, even when the two of you weren't talking, he used to swing by Stanford whenever he could." The slight smirk on Sam's face faded. "To keep an eye on you, make sure that you were safe."

Sam actually looked surprised at that. "What?" He looked from me to Dean, who nodded. "Why didn't you tell me any of that?"

Dean shrugged. "Well, it's a two way street, dude. You could've picked up the phone." Sam just looked between us sadly. "Come on," Dean eventually said. "We're gonna be late for our appointment." He said as he turned and headed over towards the doors, me following him.

* * *

**Impala, 11:45PM**

"Dude, what exactly is the plan here?" Sam asked Dean as we drove through the quiet neighborhood. "I mean, if that guy was right, and Larry really did build this neighborhood on cursed land, then every year about this time, anybody in Oasis Plains is in danger." He said, looking at him for an answer. "And then he said the sixth night, which is tonight." Dean didn't answer, just kept driving, looking like he was trying to think it though. "If we don't do something, Larry's family will be dead by morning. So how do we break the curse?"

Dean shook his head. "You don't break a curse." He said flatly. "You get out of its way. We've gotta get those people out now." Before either of us had a chance to suggest anything, Dean pulled his phone from his jacket, dialing a number and holding it to his ear. He seemed to have a pretty one sided conversation with Larry, claiming that there was a gas leak before he was obviously busted, panicking slightly before hanging up.

"Give me the phone." Sam muttered, taking it from him and calling another number. He waited a few seconds before someone answered. "Matt, it's Sam." He paused, cutting Matt off with whatever he was saying. "Matt, listen to me, you have to get your family out of that house right now, okay?" He paused again. "You've gotta make him listen, okay?"

Dean pulled a face at that. "Give me the phone." He muttered, grabbing it from Sam. "Matt, under no circumstances are you to tell the truth, they'll just think you're nuts." He didn't wait for Matt to answer before he carried on. "Tell him you have a sharp pain in your right side and you've gotta go to the hospital, okay?" He hung up the phone and shoved it back into his jacket. "Make him listen? What are you thinking?"

He drove down the street and quickly turned the corner towards their house, seeing Larry looking out of the window. The second he saw the car, he headed outside to us. "Damn it, they're still here." Dean muttered. "Come on."

We all climbed out of the car, heading over to him. "Get the hell off my property, before I call the cops." Larry yelled, looking beyond pissed.

"Dad, they're just trying to help-" Matt began, getting no further before his dad cut him off.

"Get in the house!" He shouted at him over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving us.

Matt turned to us. "I'm sorry." He said quietly. "I told him the truth."

"We had a plan, Matt." Dean said, holding out his arms a little. "What happened to the plan?"

"Look," Sam tried again, his voice urgent. "It's 12AM. They are coming any minute now. You need to get your family and go, before it's too late."

"Yeah, you mean before the biblical swarm." He answered skeptically.

Dean, who was obviously becoming more and more impatient, look a step towards him. "Larry, what do you think really happened to that realtor, huh? And the gas company guy? You don't think somethin' weird's goin' on here?"

"Look, I don't know who you are, but you're crazy." He said, shaking his head at us. "You come near my boy or my family again, and we're gonna have a problem."

"Well, I hate to be a downer, but we've got a problem right now." He argued.

"Dad, they're right, okay?" Matt protested. "We're in danger."

"Matt, get inside! Now!" Larry yelled back at him.

"No! Why won't you listen to me?!"

"Because this is crazy!" He said, his voice frustrated. "It doesn't make any sense!"

"Look, this land is cursed! People have died here. Now, are you gonna really take that risk with your family?"

"Wait." Dean suddenly said. We all went silent, looking around slowly. "You hear it?" From somewhere nearby, there was a loud buzzing sound, getting louder and louder.

"What the hell?" Larry said quietly.

The bug light on the porch suddenly made a cracking noise, killing several bugs all at once. "We're screwed." I muttered, looking to Dean for an answer.

"Oh my god." Larry suddenly said. We all turned, seeing millions of bugs flying towards the house, blanketing the sky.

"Everybody in the house!" Dean yelled. "Go!" We all ran inside, Dean slamming and locking the door behind us. "Okay, is there anybody else in the neighborhood?"

"No, it's just us." Larry answered, looking up as his wife came into the room.

"We need towels." Dean pressed, looking between them. Larry ran to the closet, grabbing a handful of towels before handing them to Dean.

"Okay," Sam said urgently, turning to Matt. "We've gotta lock this place up, come on - doors, windows, fireplace, everything, okay?" He said as Dean and I pressed towels at the bottom of the doors.

Millions of bugs then began collecting on the doors and windows, covering the entire house. The six of us just stood there for a couple of minutes, unsure of what to do. "So what do we do now?" Larry eventually said.

"We try to outlast it." Sam answered quietly. "Hopefully, the curse will end at sunrise."

I followed Dean into the kitchen, watching him search through the cabinets. He pulled out a can of bug spray and grinned, heading back to the living room. "Bug spray, seriously?" I smirked.

"Trust me." He grinned. "Alright, I think everybody needs to get upstairs." Dean said. Before any of us had a chance to move, hundreds of thousands of bugs came through the fireplace and into the living room, swarming around us. He pulled out a lighter and held it with the bug spray, making it flare up. "Alright, everybody upstairs! Now! Go!" He yelled.

We all ran upstairs and into the attic, Sam pulling the door closed behind us. We'd only been in there a couple of minutes when sawdust began to fall from the ceiling, the buzzing from the other side becoming louder. "Oh, God, what's that?" Jonie said quietly.

"Something's eating through the wood." Dean muttered. "Everybody get back. Get back!" We moved back as the bugs chewed a hole through the ceiling and swarmed into the room. I wasn't sure how long we'd been in there, but suddenly, the sun came up. The second the sunlight shone through the room, the bugs began to leave through the hole in the ceiling. Dean looked to me and frowned, obviously as confused as the rest of us. We took a step forwards, seeing the bugs in the sky, flying away from the house.

* * *

**The next morning**

On the way back from getting breakfast, Dean drove by Larry's place. He was outside, placing boxes into a moving van. We climbed out of the Impala, crossing over the street towards the house. "What, no goodbye?" Dean asked lightly.

"Good timing." He smiled. "Another hour and we'd have been gone."

He shook our hands, looking between the three of us. "For good?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," He answered. "The development's been put on hold while the government investigates those bones you found. But I'm gonna make damn sure no one lives here again."

I smiled and raised an eyebrow. "You don't seem too upset about it."

"Well, this has been the biggest financial disaster of my career, but.." He glanced over at where Matt was carrying out a box of garbage. "Somehow, I don't really care." He smiled. Sam headed over to him, Dean and I staying where we were. "I wanna say thank you, again, I mean, you saved our lives last night."

"Yeah, don't mention it." Dean smiled.

"Well, you know, if you ever need anything - deal on a house or something.." He said lightly.

Dean and I only laughed. "Think it's a while before we'll be looking for a house." Dean smirked, shooting me a look. I grinned and nodded, glancing up as Sam headed towards us again.

I looked over at Larry and Matt as we headed over to the car, smiling slightly. "I wanna find Dad." Sam said, looking between us.

"Yeah, us too." Dean answered him, climbing into the Impala.

"Yeah, but I just.." He gave a slight shrug. "I want to apologize to him."

Dean raised an eyebrow at him. "For what?"

"All the things I said to him." He sighed and shook his head. "He was just doin' the best he could."

"Well, don't worry, we'll find him." Dean assured. "And then you'll apologize. And then within five minutes, you guys will be at each other's throats."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, probably." None of us said anything for a few minutes. "C'mon, let's get back to the motel." He muttered.

Dean nodded, starting the car. "Let's."

* * *

**One hour later**

"You seem to have been in a good mood these past couple days." Dean commented as he walked out of the bathroom, a curious frown forming on his face. We both knew without him saying it what he was getting at.

I sighed heavily, I couldn't take this again. The same accusation and disbelief that I seemed to be getting from him every single day now. There had been a time, not all that long ago, that he would have believed anything that came out of my mouth. All I'd have had to say would be trust me, and he'd have done it. But we didn't seem to be like that anymore, at least not when it came to this. And I knew that was my fault, I was a liar and we both knew it. But what I didn't get was why he was so bothered about it, why he hadn't given up yet. "Dean, would you just get off my case for five freaking minutes, please?" I snapped. I didn't even understand why I was so irritable, maybe because I was so tired. I didn't know what was going on with me anymore.

Dean opened his mouth to argue with me, looking like he was geared up to have a serious fight about this, but he didn't have the chance to say anything before Sam cut in, an impatient frown on his face as he looked between us. "You know what, I am so sick of this." We both looked at him, he usually took a step back on the rare occasions that Dean and I would fight, not wanting to get involved, leaving us to get everything off of our chests before he tried to fix anything. But now he just looked pissed. "The two of you need to sit down and just talk whatever the hell this thing is out." He added, looking from me to Dean expectantly.

I shook my head slowly. He acted like we hadn't tried before, but every time we'd even gotten close to having a serious talk about it, one of us had changed the subject, pushing it off as if neither of us wanted to be the first one to admit that we had a problem. I know that I didn't. Because Dean and I had barely ever had problems before, it had always been the two of us against everything else. When Sam had left, or dad had disappeared, or any fights that had gone on, whether that had been Sam and Dad, Sam and Dean, Dad and me or even Sam and me, it had never been between me and Dean. And now, I was lying to him, he was yelling at me, and that wasn't us. It wasn't how we were supposed to be. And honestly, that scared me. "Sam-" I went to argue with him but Sam simply shook his head at me.

"No." He cut me off before I had the chance to continue. "Max, you're taking pills that you're adamant you don't need, and Dean, you're forcing her to take this crap without having the slightest idea what it's doing to her." He shook his head and looked between us, lowering his voice slightly before he carried on. I could see in his face that he'd been wanting to say this for a while. "I just don't get it. I mean, you two were pretty much joined at the freakin' hips at one point, you could talk about anything with each other, so what happened - Why not this?"

I sat back in my chair, my arms folded over my chest, he obviously wasn't letting it go this time without getting some answers. "Because Dean doesn't listen." I answered him flatly, now avoiding looking at either of them. I knew if I looked up at Dean, all I'd see in his face would be the frustration, maybe even anger, at the whole situation.

Dean scoffed. "Because you're a liar." He retorted, his tone disgruntled.

"No, Dean, I have to lie to you," I was becoming as riled up as he was now, the tension rising, both our voices becoming gradually louder. "You just don't seem to be able to get it into your head, I cannot take those pills anymore."

"Anymore?" He repeated, raising his eyebrows at me. "Max, you haven't even tried taking them in the first place, how the hell can you know they don't work unless you try them?!" He was fully angry now, his face hard, voice pure exasperation.

"Of course I tried them, Dean!" I rested my hands on the table, pushing myself to stand up, taking a step towards him. "You asked me to take them, so I took them. The same way that I do absolutely everything that you ask me to. No question." That was the only thing I didn't get, I know I'd lied about it, but that was only after he'd refused to believe I'd been taking them in the first place, when I had. I sighed lightly, looking away from him to the floor. "You know what, Dean, I'm not having this conversation." I said quietly, turning my back to him and grabbing my jacket from the back of my chair. "Not now, not ever." I could feel tears in my eyes, I just wanted to leave.

"I want to know what happened." Sam's words stopped me, my hand still rested on the door handle, my eyes fixed on the wood in front of my face. "Because Max, whatever you say here, I gotta admit, Dean's right." He spoke slowly, like he was apprehensive about how I was about to react to him. "You can tell me whatever you want, and I'd normally believe you - but we all know that the day Dean sends you to see a doctor, is the day that he's desperate and out of options."

"You're siding with him?" I smiled and nodded, turning around to face him and giving a slight shrug. "Of course you are, thanks, Sam." I threw my jacket the short distance to the closest beds, leaning back against the door, folding my arms over my chest.

"I'm not siding with anybody, all I want is the truth." He continued, his voice calm. "I mean, I'm getting one story from you, and another one from Dean," He stopped and shook his head, he looked conflicted. "How the hell am I supposed to know whether or not you need to be on them? Neither of you will talk about it, not to me, not to each other."

I didn't answer him, unable to think of a response. Dean suddenly took a step closer to me, his face serious. "Go on, Max. Why don't you tell him, huh?" He pressed, there was a knowing expression on his face, like he was almost sure this was all about to go his way. "And this time, why don't you tell him without twisting it around to make yourself sound like you're fine, or like you can handle this, because you and I both know what you were like, and you can stand there and lie all you want, but we both know that you can't." His voice was intent, his eyes fixed on mine until I couldn't hold his stare anymore.

I looked away from him, shaking my head slowly while I thought about it. "Dean, please," It was a lame attempt, but I knew deep down that there was no stopping him this time, everything was about to come out.

"No," He shook his head slowly. "You're telling it to Sam like you've just had a couple of bad days, Max. How can you not see how screwed up you really were, hm?" I didn't answer him, now looking nowhere but the floor. "You scared the hell out of me, and that is why I need you to take them, because you scare me, you really do. And I can't take you being like that again, Maxie."

"I don't wanna feel like this anymore. They make me feel crap, I don't feel like me when I'm on them." I tried to explain it the best that I could, not even sure that I was making sense to them in what I was saying. "I feel depressed, like there isn't any point. I mean, they make me feel exhausted, all the time. And I can't take this world getting any darker than it already is. I just- I can't." I took a step forwards and dropped back into the chair I'd been sitting in, leaning my elbows against the table and my head in my hands.

"Dean," Sam pressed, his voice quiet. I could pretty much feel them both watching me, unable to bring myself to face them. "What happened?"

Dean sighed deeply, also taking a seat at the table, taking a few seconds before he said anything else. "We'd just finished a hunt, a werewolf thing in Indiana, and then Maxie, she uh, she went missing." He spoke slowly, like he was giving me the opportunity to cut in whenever I wanted to. "Dad ended up coming down to meet me, we had no idea where she'd gone - and then, out of nowhere, couple of weeks later, she came back. And she was possessed." He paused, obviously struggling for words. "Some stuff happened-"

"I tried to kill him." I cut in, realising that Dean wasn't going to say it himself. "I almost beat him to death, Sam. I shot him. I killed people. I killed kids." I stopped and ran a hand down my face, trying to keep myself calm. "I heard a little girl begging for her life before I killed her. Dozens of people, innocent people, begging not to be murdered. And none of it goes away, ever. I can still hear it, feel it.. All of it. No matter what I do, it just doesn't stop."

* * *

**Dean's POV.**  
**September 15th, 2005, 10:20PM, Motel Room.**

I looked over as the door to the motel room swung open, my eyes going wide when I saw that it wasn't Dad. "Max?" I breathed out, complete shock drowning my voice, feeling a mixture between relief, concern and confusion. She nodded at me as she pushed the door closed behind herself, pulling off her jacket and dropping it over one of the chairs casually, like she hadn't been missing for two weeks. I got to my feet, narrowing my eyes at her. "Max, where the hell have you been, we looked everywhere for you."

Max paused, turning to face me, a small smirk spreading over her face. "We?" She repeated, there was something in her eyes that unnerved me. "You mean, Dad's here too?"

"Yeah, he came back once he'd finished the hunt." I thought back, remembering how pissed he'd been when I'd called him. Pissed at me for letting her go, pissed at Max for bailing, but I'd thought more pissed at himself for leaving us alone. "Maxie, he is beyond pissed with you, what happened?"

She shrugged slightly. "Nothing exciting." She answered lightly.

"Nothing exciting?" I shook my head at her, not believing what I was hearing. She wasn't stupid, she must've known what she'd put us through just leaving like she had. Something wasn't right with her. "Max, you've been missing for two weeks. I thought you were dead." My voice became louder as I thought back to the complete feeling of fear when she'd first gone, every awful thing that could have happened to her replaying in my head. "You've been missing for two weeks, you're going to have to do better than that. A lot better."

"Dean, listen to me, quit worrying, okay? I'm fine." She said flatly. "Where's Dad?"

I shook my head. "Why are you so bothered about where Dad is?" I asked slowly, something wasn't making sense. She wouldn't leave the way she had unless something was really wrong. Or something had happened. "What's happened to you?" She even looked different. Her face was cold, her eyes cold and emotionless, the way I'd never seen her look before. And then it made sense. It wasn't her. "What have you done with her?" I grabbed my gun, aiming it straight at her. She only laughed, not looking at all phased. "You're not my sister."

"Hm," She looked up at me and grinned, her eyes turning black for a second. "Not anymore."

I glanced down at the gun in my hand, realising how useless it was going to be. "Get out of her, now." I warned, trying to sound confident, ignoring how cornered I could really be here.

"Nah, you know what, I kinda like it in here." She smirked. "I can hear everything that goes on inside her head, Dean." I rolled my eyes, acting like none of it bothered me. She took a step towards me and punched me hard in the face. It caught me so off guard, I stumbled back slightly with a bloody lip. Instinctively, I raised a fist to hit her back, pausing and taking a step back before I did, because she was still in there somewhere. Whether she could feel it or not, I didn't know, but there was no way that I was about to hurt her. I don't think I could. "You know she only stayed for you, right?" She smirked as she threw another hard punch to my face. "She wanted to leave your ass just like Sammy did, but I guess she thought you were too pathetic to survive on your own. This is your fault."

I pushed up a smirk of my own, glaring down at her like it didn't affect me, taking another punch to the face. "Shut up." I muttered.

"You know she's in here, right? Screaming at you. Begging you to help her." That was something that I could believe, if she was in there, then there was no way in hell I was about to fight her. Sometimes in life, you just had to take it. "I can hear feel her, wondering why her big bother hasn't saved her yet. But I'll tell you what, she's going to feel me snap every single one of your bones. And then she's going to do the same to Daddy."

I shook my head. "How about I knock that smartass right out of your mouth?" I muttered.

She only smirked harder. "And just for that, I might even go and find little Sammy." I didn't answer that, just held her stare. "Dean, Dean, Dean. You're not going to hurt her, you wouldn't dare. I mean, just look at yourself, you've already proved it, you're not going to hurt your baby sis, you don't have it in you."

"I'm warning you, get the hell out of my sister or I swear to god I will march down to hell myself and slaughter every last one of you." I threatened, taking a step forwards and glaring down at her. "Trust me, we are not people that you want to mess with."

She paused for a few seconds, looking like she was seriously thinking that one over. Then, she raised a hand and sent me flying back into the wall with a thud, landing on the floor with a groan. She smirked and crossed the room towards me, kicking me in the chest over and over, crouching down and punching me in the face again. "You Winchesters, you think you're so tough, he's never going to find that demon, Dean." For a second, I didn't know what she was talking about. And then it hit me, Dad. That's what he'd been doing while he'd been away, looking for the demon that killed mom. "He's going to be dead by the end of the night, all of you are." She smiled a little, punching me in the face again. I could barely even feel it anymore, every punch and every kick just merging into one big pain that hurt everywhere. I could taste the blood in my mouth, feel the splitting pain in my ribs, I knew my face was covered in blood, and somehow, I was more worried about her. "You're all going to hell, Dean. Just. Like. Mommy."

I would've snapped at that. Enough for me to find the strength to punch her hard in the face, whether it was Max's body or not, I would've done it. But before I had the chance to even move, the motel's door swung open. Dad walked inside, taking one look between us before pulling his gun, aiming it straight at Max. She stood up and smirked, taking a step towards him. "Dad, don't!" I managed to yell, my voice cracked. His eyes flickered from her to me, a confused frown on his face. "It's still Max, she's possessed."

Dad looked from her to the gun, coming to the same thoughts I had earlier and slowly putting it down on the table, picking up his journal, his eyes fixed on her. Before he even had the chance to do anything, she pulled a gun from the back for her jeans, pointing it behind herself towards me. "Stop right there, John." She warned. "Before you even think about it, one word of latin comes out of your mouth and a bullet goes right between his eyes."

He slowly put down the journal again, facing her straight on. I shook my head slightly, making a move to push myself up, now pretty sure that my ribs were broken. Max turned to me, a grin on her face. "Don't even think about going anywhere." She muttered, pulling the trigger on the gun with a grin. I felt the sharp, burning pain hit me right below my neck, just to the side of my shoulder, the deep red blood, pouring from the wound.

I saw Dad make a move to her, grabbing the gun from her hand and slamming down on the table, throwing a small flask of holy water at her. I heard him chanting something in latin, banging and crashing that sounded like they were fighting, but he kept going. I fought to stay awake, needing to know that they were okay. I heard Max scream, a horrible, blood chilling scream before the sound of a body dropping to the floor with a thud. And that's the last thing I remembered happening before I blacked out. Blacked out with no idea if they were okay, if Max was even alive.

* * *

_Yes, I know I'm totally evil for that. But, there will be more about their past in the next chapter, including some major Dean/Max feels, tears and hugs and some bro/sis stuff, because I know you love that ;))_  
_Also, I apologise for it taking a couple of weeks for me to update, I've been super busy with my college work and stuff, but I'll try and get the next chapter up sooner! And again, thank you so so much for the support, means the world! :-)_


	7. Chapter 7

**September 19th, 2005, 12:15PM, Hospital. **

Dean always looked so calm when he slept. That was the first thought I'd had when I'd gotten to the hospital that morning. His face became more care free when he was sleeping, the protective and watchful stance calmed, more relaxed. A lot of the time I wished that he could relax, take break from feeling as though he was constantly pressured to keep other people safe, to keep me safe. But that was who he was. He'd always been like that.

It had been three days since he'd been put into hospital, and he still hadn't woken up. The original feeling of panic, sheer terror and frustration had calmed, he was going to be fine, they'd said so. Now it was all just a waiting game. Waiting for Dean to wake up, for Dad to come back from wherever he'd gone, for us to leave town - just to get back to normal again, away from this town, this hunt, all of it. But I was starting to miss him. When I felt this low, this helpless, Dean was the one I turned to. He was the one who made it better. And he wasn't here. I'd thought about calling Sam, dialed his number and changed my mind, I couldn't face that. I just needed him to wake up.

Sitting there for three days gave me time to think, about all of the stuff that Dean actually did for this family, for me. The way that he'd looked after me and Sam when we were kids, the way he'd beat up anyone that gave any of us a second glance, the way he'd always made sure that everything was okay, that we were safe - he'd never once blown us off to do his own thing, he'd never let anything hurt us, he'd never turned his back on us - he didn't deserve any of this. There was dark bruising down one side of his face, he had two black eyes, one much worse than the other, a busted lip, cuts on his cheeks, cuts on his forehead and chin - he just looked a mess. I couldn't even look at him, because I'd done this to him. Every bruise, every cut, was there because of me.

What I couldn't understand is why he hadn't even made an attempt to fight back. If I'd been unconscious, I could've understood this, maybe the demon had just been too strong for him, I would've accepted that. But I'd been awake, and I'd seen him raise his fist, I'd seen him take a step back and drop it again, taking every punch and kick without giving anything back. Somehow, that made me feel even worse. Knowing that he could've fought back, and this whole thing could have been avoided, maybe it wouldn't have resulted in hospital, or in him being shot - I don't know. But Dean was stubborn, everybody knew that, and he'd sworn he'd never hurt me, he'd never hurt Sam, that he had our backs, and he never backed out on his promises. Even when it involved having his ass kicked.

I was too lost in my own thoughts to even notice when his eyes opened, only realising that he was awake as he shifted slightly, looking up to him, his eyes meeting mine. I stared at him for a few seconds, not sure what I wanted to say, whether it was sorry or are you okay or just to laugh in relief, I didn't know. "Hey, Maxie." He eventually said, breaking the silence that had surrounded us for the past three hours. Not one word being spoken since dad had left us. There was a small smile on his face, mixed with a slight grimace as it clearly pained him to do it. His voice cracked a little, his words quiet and soft, he didn't sound angry, or hurt, he just sounded worried. I could see him subconsciously looking over me, trying to make sure that I was okay, the way he always did when we'd been apart for more than a couple hours. I doubt he even knew he'd been out for three days. "You okay?" He pressed, clearly still more concerned about me than he was about himself.

I nodded slowly, feeling the tears building up again, whether it was the fact I could see how much pain he was in or just pure alleviation that he was okay, I wasn't sure. "I'm okay." I answered quietly, my voice fracturing for a second as I tried to hold it together. He'd almost died, he'd been in hospital unconscious for three days, he was the one with the bullet wound in his shoulder and he was asking me if I was okay. "What about you?" I asked, my tone becoming a little more serious. He didn't look fine, he looked like he was in some serious pain and he was trying to hide it.

Dean shrugged at me, letting a small smile form on his face. "Oh yeah, just awesome." He said lightly, the hint of a frown remaining on his face. I let out a sigh of relief, the knot of fear in my chest relaxing slightly. For the first time in the past three days, my mind went to the one place I'd worked to stop it from going - the thought that Dean could actually die. He wasn't indestructible. Not the way I'd thought he was. Growing up, I'd always thought he was untouchable, that no one could ever hurt Dean, because Dean was tough, and strong, and he looked out for us. Because he never complained, he never got ill, he never got hurt - and then as I'd gotten older, I'd realised, he had. He just hadn't let it show. He _never_ let it show. And I didn't understand how he did that. I didn't understand how he was so tough all the time. Sure, I'd seen him get angry, upset, I'd seen him on the verge of tears - but he never let it last. The second his guard came down he put it right back up, every time. "You're crying." He said softly, looking up at me sadly.

I wiped at my cheeks, not even realising that the tears had fallen down my face, shaking my head slowly. "No, I'm not." I felt stupid crying, after what he'd been through, he should be the one upset, not me, but somehow I couldn't hold it back. The thought of him dying scared me more than anything else. More than any hunt or any monster - because the darkest place that I could ever imagine myself being was if something happened to Dean.

"Liar." He muttered, giving me a knowing look and reaching out to pull my hand away from my face, looking up at me properly. "What's wrong?" I looked him in the eye, more tears replacing the ones I'd wiped away.

"Dean," My voice came out as a whisper, quieter than I'd intended. "I'm sorry." My breath caught in my throat, the tears freely falling now. I looked away from him to the floor, unable to face him anymore. "I'm so sorry."

Dean kept his hold on my hand, pulling me from the chair to sit beside him on the bed, placing an arm around my shoulders, his cheek rested against the top of my head. "Maxie, it's okay." He said gently, his voice sincere. "It wasn't your fault, alright?" All I could do at that point was cry, grip to the front of his white t-shirt for dear life, refusing to let go, and cry. I couldn't remember the last time I'd cried like that. I never let myself cry, ever. But Dean didn't do anything, didn't try to stop me, just held onto me, telling me that it was okay, that he was fine, that we'd be okay. And eventually I believed him, and I calmed down.

I pulled back a little, looking up at him and seeing something that I didn't expect to see. Dean had tears in his eyes. I could count on one hand the amount of times I'd seen Dean cry. And there was no doubt that later he'd tell me it was the drugs, or the morphine, and I'd pretend to believe him, but he had tears clinging to his eyelashes, threatening to fall from his eyes. "You're crying." I stated, looking up at him.

Dean wiped a hand over his face, giving me a small smile. "Guess that makes two of us then, doesn't it." He said lightly. I nodded slowly, unable to stop a laugh from escaping me. Dean just shook his head at me, the sympathetic look never leaving his face as he raised his hand and wiped the tears from my cheeks. "We're so lame." He muttered, the hint of a smile in his voice. We stayed there like that for about an hour before the doctors even knew that Dean was awake, neither of us really saying much. But I knew he was there, and I knew he was okay, that he wasn't going anywhere - and that made it all okay. Because I felt safe again.

* * *

**Present - Motel room, 09:12AM.**

I opened my eyes to the bright sunlight coming through the open window, reluctantly pushing myself to sit up and glancing between my brothers. Dean was sitting at the table, Sam's laptop open in front of him, his eyes scanning whatever was on the screen. "Morning." He muttered, looking over at me as I sat up. I gave him a small nod, not bothering with an answer. "Anyway," He said, going back to looking at the laptop. "There's a fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali - its crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas." He glanced up at Sam and raised an eyebrow when he didn't get a response. I looked over at the next bed where Sam's attention seemed to be focused on the picture of a tree he was drawing. "Hey." Dean pressed, Sam finally looking up at him. "Am I boring you with all this hunting evil stuff?"

"No," Sam muttered, looking back to his drawing. "I'm listening, keep going."

"And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head, three times." I followed his eyes to Sam when he once again didn't answer, waving a hand in front of his face. "Any of these things blowing up your skirt, pal?" He asked lightly, the concern showing slightly.

Sam just looked at the picture on his knee, a sudden realisation washing over his face. "Wait, I've seen this."

Dean looked from him to me, a confused frown on his face. "Seen what?" He pressed. Sam got up from the bed and grabbed his duffel bag from the floor, opening it up on the bed and searching through it. Dean got to his feet and took a step towards him, folding his arms over his chest. "What are you doing?" Without answering him, Sam pulled out an old photo of us from when we were kids, Sam and I just babies, and held it up beside his drawing.

I climbed out of bed and moved to stand beside Dean, watching him curiously. "I know where we have to go next." He said, looking between us. Dean just raised an eyebrow at him. "We need to go back home - back to Kansas."

"Okay, random." Dean looked calmer than I expected him to at that. We'd barely ever talked about going back home. The last time he'd mentioned it had been Mom's birthday the year before, when we'd both been completely wasted - and he'd said that he never, ever wanted to go back there. "Where'd that come from?"

Sam held out the photo to us. "Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?" Dean just looked at him, clearly not impressed with where this conversation was going. Mom was a touchy subject to bring up with him in the first place. "And it burned down, right?" He continued, taking Dean's silence as a yes. "I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?"

I glanced up at him, he looked about as lost on the situation as I was. "Sam, what the hell are you talking about?" I asked him, starting to get a little worried myself.

"Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy, but," He paused and took a breath. "The people who live in our old house - I think they might be in danger."

Dean shook his head. "Why would you think that?"

Sam now looked like he was struggling for an answer. "Uh, it's just, um.. Look, just trust me on this, okay?" He turned, ready to walk away until Dean took a step forwards, stopping him.

"Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?" He raised an eyebrow. "Come on, man, that's weak. You gotta give me a little bIt more than that."

Sam now really did look lost. "I just, I can't really explain it is all."

"Well, tough." Dean answered flatly. "I'm not going anywhere until you do."

Sam sighed heavily, Dean just looking at him expectantly. "I have these nightmares." He began.

Dean nodded. "We've noticed." He said calmly.

"And sometimes," He paused for a couple of seconds. "They come true."

I looked up at him, not sure I'd heard that right. "Come again?" Dean pressed, clearly as stunned as I was.

"Look, guys.." He said slowly. "I dreamt about Jessica's death, for days before it happened."

"Sammy," I tried calmly. "People have weird dreams, bro. Probably just a coincidence."

He took a seat on the edge of his bed, shaking his head. "No. I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything about it, 'cause I didn't believe it." I thought back to the Bloody Mary hunt we'd taken a few weeks ago, remembering what the Sam in the mirror had said to him. "And now, I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help.. I mean, that's where it all started, this has to mean something, right?"

I didn't know what else to say to him, I couldn't think of anything. I sat down at the table, looking to Dean to handle this. "I don't know." He eventually said, clearly overwhelmed by what he was being told. He dropped down into the chair opposite mine, running a hand over his face with a sigh.

Sam took a seat in the chair between us, looking from me to Dean. "What do you mean you don't know, Dean? This woman might be in danger, I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica-"

"Alright, just slow down, would ya?" Dean cut him off, standing up as he began pacing around the room. "I mean, first you drop the bomb that you've got the shining? And then you tell me that I've gotta go back home? Especially when-" He stopped himself before he could go any further.

Sam frowned. "When what?" He pressed.

"When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?" He finished sadly.

Sam sighed softly. "Look, Dean, we have to check this out, just to make sure."

Dean nodded slowly. "I know we do." He muttered.

Sam looked at him for a few seconds, a concerned frown on his face, before briefly looking at me and nodding to himself slowly. "I'm gonna take a shower." He said quietly. "Then we can hit the road."

I looked at Dean, who looked too deep in his own thoughts to answer him. "Sure." I muttered, giving him a light smile as he turned and closed the bathroom door behind himself. I sighed and glanced over the table towards Dean, his eyes were fixed on the floor ahead of him, his mind clearly elsewhere. "Dean," He blinked and looked up at me slowly, simply shaking his head before I could even ask if he was okay, that way it was like he could say so without having to admit it. "It's gonna be fine, Dean." I said quietly, the only think that I could think to say to him. "It's gonna be fine."

He nodded slowly, not looking convinced. "Yeah," He muttered, standing up and running a hand down his face. "I'm sure it is."

* * *

**The next morning.**

Dean pulled up the Impala outside of the house. The house that I could only ever remember seeing in pictures. We'd never been back here, not since we'd left. It was twenty-two years since any of us had set foot in Lawrence, the last time when Sam and I had been just babies, Dean only four years old. "You gonna be alright, man?" Sam asked Dean as the three of us climbed out of the car.

Dean looked up and down the street as he slammed the door closed behind himself. "Let me get back to you on that." He muttered, leading the way up to the front door. He knocked lightly, waiting a few seconds before the door was opened. A young woman, pretty with blonde hair, came to the door, looking between us. "Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the Federal-" Dean began, not getting another word out before Sam cut over him.

"I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean, and my sister, Max." He said, pointing between us as he spoke. "We used to live here. You know, we were just driving by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place."

She smiled at us and nodded. "Winchester.. Yeah, that's so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night." She said as she stepped aside. "Come on in." We followed her into the house, and through to the kitchen. There was a young girl sitting at the table, doing some homework, and a toddler jumping in his playpen. It felt weird, knowing that at one point, a long time ago, we had lived here. Back when we'd been a normal family. Before the ghosts and the demons and the hunting, when Mom and Dad had been happy. "That's Richie," She said, gesturing to the young boy in the playpen. "And this is Sari," She stopped beside her chair and looked back to us. "Sari, this is Max, Dean and Sam, they used to live here."

"Hi." She said quietly, looking between the three of us slowly.

"So, you just moved in?" Dean asked Jenny.

"Yeah, from Wichita."

Dean nodded. "You got family here, or..?"

"No, I just, uh.. needed a fresh start, that's all." She answered. "So, new town, new job - I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.."

"So, how you liking it so far?" Sam pressed.

"Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home, I mean, I'm sure you had lots of happy memories here." Dean smiled weakly at that. "But this place has its issues, you know, it's just getting old.. Like the wiring. I mean, we've got flickering lights almost hourly."

"Oh, that's too bad." Dean answered, sounding like he was struggling to sound calm. "What else?"

"Um, sink's backed up, there's rats in the basement." She paused and looked between us. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain."

"No," Dean shook his head, clearly not offended. "Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?"

Jenny frowned. "It's just the scratching, actually."

"Mom," Sari said, looking up at her. Jenny kneeled down beside her. "Ask them if it was here when they were here."

"What, Sari?" Sam pressed.

"The thing in my closet." She said quietly.

"Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closet." She said, turning to us. "Right?"

"Right, no, no, of course not." Sam said to her.

"She had a nightmare the other night." Jenny explained, giving us a slight shrug.

"I wasn't dreaming, it came into my bedroom." She said, sounding convinced by her own words. "and it was on fire." I felt my stomach drop at that, a feeling of dread washing over me. That was the last thing I'd wanted to hear. I glanced up at Dean, he looked too shocked to say anything. Sam looked back down at me, his eyes wide.

"Well, thank you for, you know, letting us see the place." I muttered, realising that neither Sam or Dean were going to. "We should, uh, we should be going."

"Oh, okay." She smiled. "Well it was nice meeting you."

We all nodded, making our way towards the front door. Sam pulled it closed behind us, leading the way down the steps outside of the house. "You hear that?" Sam pressed urgently as we made our way back to the Impala. "A figure on fire."

"And that woman, Jenny, was the woman in your dreams?" I asked, almost praying that he'd say no.

"Yeah," He nodded at me, looking between us quickly. "And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit."

"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are coming true." Dean muttered, his voice was calm, but there was the faintest hint of fear in his words.

"Well, forget about that for a minute." Sam went on, almost sounding panicked. "The thing in the house, do you think it's the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?"

"I don't know." Dean snapped.

"Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?" Sam went on, his voice fast.

"Or maybe it's something else entirely, Sam, we don't know yet." Dean argued.

"Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get them out of that house."

Dean paused at the door to the Impala to face him. "And we will." He assured, his tone more confident.

"No," Sam said flatly. "I mean now."

"And how you gonna do that, huh?" Dean countered, taking a step closer to him. "You got a story that she's gonna believe?" Sam simply shook his head, clearly wound up, and sighed deeply, giving in. "We just gotta chill out, that's all." Dean went on, much calmer than he had been. "You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?"

Sam took a breath, looking down for a second. "We'd try to figure out what we were dealing with." He answered quietly. "We'd dig into the history of the house."

"Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened." Dean said as he climbed into the car, Sam and I doing the same.

"Yeah, but how much do we know?" Sam pressed curiously. "I mean, how much do you actually remember?"

Dean looked away from him, keeping his gaze fixed out of the window ahead. "About that night, you mean?" Sam nodded slowly. "Not much.. I remember the fire.. the heat.." He paused for a minute, looking over to him. "And then I carried you and Maxie out the front door."

Sam glanced up at him, looking a little shocked. "You did?" He pressed.

"Yeah," Dean replied casually. "What, you never knew that?" Sam only shook his head. If I didn't know better, I'd have said he was lost for words. "And, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was.. was on the ceiling." Dean paused and looked down for a second. "And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her."

"And he never had a theory about what did it?" Sam questioned.

"If he did, he kept it to himself." Dean muttered. "God knows we asked him enough times."

"Okay, so if we're gonna figure out what's going on now, we have to figure out what happened back then." Sam said.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time."

Sam paused for a few seconds. "Does this feel like just another job to you?" Dean didn't say anything for a minute before giving a slight shake of his head and putting the car into gear, setting off down the street.

None of us spoke for the short drive, Dean's eyes clearly fixed on the road, refusing to look away incase it sparked up a conversation he didn't want to have. After about ten minutes of tense, silent driving, he pulled over into a gas station, stopping in front of one of the pumps. He grabbed his wallet from his jacket pocket and tossed it back over his shoulder to me. "Maxie, go get me some food or something, yeah?" He muttered, opening the door and stepping out. "Sam, fill the gas up, I gotta go to the bathroom." With that, he slammed the door closed and headed off out of sight.

Sam and I watched him go, turning to look at each other. He looked confused, a concerned frown set into his face. "What's with him?" He said quietly, looking from me over the parking lot to where he'd walked away.

I sighed and shook my head. "I don't know, Sammy." I answered, trying to work out what was up with him myself. "Rough hunt, I guess." I added, the only thing that I could think to put it down to.

"Yeah," Sam nodded slowly, looking deep in thought. "Guess so." He muttered, not saying anything for a few seconds before he sighed and climbed out of the car, walking around to the gas pumps. I ran a hand over my face and also climbed out of the car, heading over to the store for Dean.

I walked out of the store again, seeing that Dean wasn't back from wherever he'd gone and Sam was still filling up the car with gas. He looked up as I walked towards him, raising an eyebrow like he'd been expecting two of us. "Where's Dean?" He pressed curiously, clearly becoming worried about him. I was too, this was different for Dean than it was for me and Sam, he remembered this house, what had happened to him, he remembered Mom; we didn't.

I tossed the stuff into the backseat and shrugged. "Uh, he said he was going to the bathroom, didn't he?" I muttered, shaking my head at him. Sam only looked at me, not looking convinced. "I'll go see where he's gone." He nodded at me as I gave him a weak smile and turned away from him. I headed off around the same corner I'd watched Dean disappear behind, only now thinking about how urgent he'd seemed to get some space on his own. I turned, seeing him standing with his back to me, beside the door of the diner. "Hey, Dean, are you-" I stopped as Dean jumped a little, clearly startled, and turned quickly to face me. I hadn't even realised he'd been on the phone until he snapped it closed and shoved it into his jacket pocket. He looked like he was holding back tears, working on keeping himself calm as he pushed up a shaky smile to his face. I glanced back around the corner, seeing Sam was still leaning against the car, not looking too concerned about where we'd gone off to, before turning back to Dean. I took a couple of steps closer to him, looking over him carefully. "What's wrong?" Dean didn't answer me, just shook his head slowly, like he didn't know what to say. Either that or he couldn't find the words, I wasn't sure. "Was that dad?" I pressed, narrowing my eyes slightly at him.

Dean sighed and shifted slightly, looking like he really didn't want to talk about it. "It was his voicemail." He muttered, giving a small shrug. "When is it ever dad?" He added glumly. He didn't look far off tears, shining in his eyes despite how hard he tried to hold them back. It was a rare thing that I ever saw him like this, because he usually did anything to make sure of it. "Let's face it, Max, we know there's something in that house - and I don't know if it's the thing that killed mom or not but.." He trailed off, his voice cracking as he fought to stay calm. "I don't know what to do. And I don't know how to deal with this-" He stopped himself before he could go any further, taking a step back and leaning against the wall, shaking his head slowly and letting out a breath.

"Dean," I began, not sure of what to say to him. "I get this is hard, but you're not on your own in this, alright? Sam and I are right here." His eyes moved to me, a genuine look of sorrow on his face. For a few seconds I thought that he was going to break down, that he was going to literally lose the control he had over his emotions and give in. But he didn't. He pushed himself forwards off the wall and nodded slowly at me, managing a small smile.

"I know." He answered quietly, his face once again becoming calm and emotionless, everything being held back by him. "Thanks." He said quietly, taking a short breath before he turned and headed off around the corner, back to the Impala.

* * *

**30 Minutes later**

I looked around the garage we were standing in, only half listening to the guy Sam and Dean were talking to. I found it hard to believe that Dad ever worked in a place like this, that he ever had a normal, everyday, stable job. He was always so driven, so focused on whatever he was doing. As a kid, before I'd known what he was really doing, I'd thought that was down to him being a Marine, that he was just like that. I'd never seen him as being the calm, normal, come home every night after work and sit with his family kind of parent. But for a few years, Dean had known him as that, he'd had that with him. Sometimes I thought that must have hurt him even more, because Dean knew what we were missing, Sam and I didn't. "So, you and John Winchester, you used to own this garage together?" Dean asked the guy in front of us.

I looked up at him as he nodded. "Yeah, we used to, a long time ago. Matter of fact, it must be, uh.. twenty years since John disappeared." He frowned. "So why the cops interested all of a sudden?"

"Oh, we're re-opening some of our unsolved cases, and the Winchester disappearance is one of them." Dean answered calmly. "So, uh, you know, whatever you remember about John, whatever sticks out in your mind."

"Well," He frowned a little as he thought back. "He was a stubborn bastard, I remember that." He laughed. "And, uh, whatever the game, he hated to lose, you know? It's that whole Marine thing.. But, oh, he sure loved Mary. And he doted on those kids."

"But that was before the fire?" Sam pressed. "He ever talk about that night?"

"No, not at first, I think he was in shock."

"Right, but eventually?" Sam went on. "What did he say about it?"

"Oh, he wasn't thinking straight, he said something caused that fire and killed Mary." He said quietly.

Dean frowned. "Did he ever say what did it?"

"Nothing did it." He answered flatly. "It was an accident - an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or something. I begged him to get some help but.. Oh, he just got worse and worse." He shook his head slowly. "He started reading these strange old books. He started going to see this palm reader in town."

"Palm reader?" Dean repeated. "Uh, do you have a name?"

The guy scoffed. "No."

"Right," Dean smiled slightly. "Well, thanks anyway." He nodded at us as we turned and left the garage, walking back to the Impala.

"Okay, so we've gotta find this palm reader." Sam muttered as we climbed back into the car. "Where are we supposed to start with something like that?"

* * *

I leaned against the side of the Impala, Dean standing beside me, while Sam stood next to a payphone. He sighed and flipped through another page of the phonebook. "Alright, so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town." He explained. "There's someone named El Divino. There's uh," He paused and let out a laugh. "There's the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky.. Uh, Missouri Mosely-"

"Wait, wait," Dean cut in. "Missouri Mosely?"

"What?" Sam muttered.

"That's a psychic?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so." He shrugged.

Dean frowned. "Hey, Max, pass me Dad's journal, will you?" I reached through the window and grabbed it from the backseat, handing it to him. He opened it and nodded, holding it out to us. "First page, first sentence. Read that."

"I went to Missouri and I learned the truth." I read slowly, frowning and looking up at him.

Dean shrugged. "I always thought he meant the state."

* * *

**One hour later**

I tossed the magazine I'd been flipping through back to the table in front of us and sighed, looking back as the door opened. "Alright, there. Don't you worry about a thing," Missouri was saying to the man she was walking out. "Your wife is crazy about you." The man thanked her as she closed the front door behind him. "Whew," She said as she turned back to face us. "Poor bastard, his woman is cold-bangin' the gardener."

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asked, standing up with me and Sam to face her.

"People don't come here for the truth, they come for good news." We only stared at her, not answering. "Well? Max, Sam, Dean, come on already, I ain't got all day." She said as she turned and walked out of the room. We looked between each other, clearly all as confused as each other, before we followed her out of the room and into the next room. "Well, lemme look at ya." She said brightly. "Max, so pretty, and you boys grew up handsome," She pointed a finger at Dean. "And you were one goofy lookin' kid, too." Dean glared at her, Sam and I laughing to ourselves. "Sam," She reached out and grabbed his hand. "Oh, honey.. I'm sorry about your girlfriend, and your father? He's missing?"

"How did you know about that?" Sam asked slowly, the shock clear in his voice.

"Well, you were just thinkin' it just now." Sam just raised his eyebrows.

"Well, where is he?" Dean pressed urgently. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know." Missouri answered.

"Don't know?" He repeated, almost sounding desperate. "Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right?"

"Boy, you see me sawin' some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please." She snapped. Sam smirked at us as we sat down across from her. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table I'm 'a whack you with a spoon." She snapped at Dean before any of us had a chance to say anything.

"I didn't do anything." Dean protested innocently.

"But you were thinking about it." Dean raised his eyebrows at me and Sam, neither of us doing anything but smiling at him.

"Okay," Sam said to her. "So, our dad - when did you first meet him?"

"He came for a reading, a few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark," She said to us. "I guess you could say, I drew back the curtains for him."

"What about the fire?" I asked. "Do you know about what killed our mom?"

"A little.. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin' I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of the thing.."

"And could you?" Sam pressed curiously.

"I.." She trailed off and shook her head.

Sam frowned. "What was it?"

"I don't know." She said softly. "Oh, but it was evil." I glanced up at Dean, matching his small frown with one of my own. "So," Missouri pressed, looking between the three of us slowly, a light frown on her face. "You think something is back in that house?"

Sam nodded. "Definitely."

Missouri shook her head. "I don't understand." She said quietly. "I haven't been back inside, but I've been keeping an eye on the place, and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents.. Why is it acting up now?"

"I don't know," Sam answered. "But Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once, it just feels like something is starting."

"That's a comforting thought." Dean commented.

* * *

**That night, Jenny's House**

Sam knocked lightly at the door, waiting a few seconds before Jenny answered it, looking a little surprised when she saw us. "Sam, Dean, Max? What are you doing here?" She asked quietly.

"Hey, Jenny," Sam smiled. "This is our friend, Missouri."

"If it's not too much trouble, we were hoping to show her the old house." Dean said lightly. "You know, for old times sake."

"You know, it's not really a good time." She said slowly. "I'm kind of busy."

"Listen, Jenny, it's important." Dean went on, getting no further before Missouri smacked him around the back of the head. "Ow!" He complained.

"Give the poor girl a break, can't you see that she's upset?" She turned to Jenny and lowered her voice. "Forgive this boy, he means well, he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed, but hear me out." Dean just looked stunned.

"About what?" Jenny said quietly.

"About this house." Missouri said softly.

Jenny frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I think you know what I'm talking about." She pressed. "You think there's something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?"

Jenny looked between us slowly. "Who are you?"

"We're people who can help, who can stop this thing.. But you're gonna have to trust us just a little." Jenny looked unsure, but stepped aside and let us in. We followed her up to Sari's bedroom, Missouri walking inside first. "If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it." She said quietly, looking around slowly.

"Why?" Sam pressed.

"This used to be your nursery, Sam, Max." We looked between each other. "This is where it all happened." I looked up at the ceiling, feeling a little sick at the thought. Dean pulled out an EMF meter from his jacket. "That EMF?" Missouri asked, glancing back at him.

"Yeah." He muttered.

"Amature." Dean glared at her, turning on the EMF meter which began beeping frantically. "I don't know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain't the thing that took your mom."

"Wait, are you sure?" Sam asked. Missouri nodded slowly. "How do you know?"

"It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here." She said quietly. "It's something different."

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"Not it." She opened the closet door and looked inside. "Them.. There's more than one spirit in this place."

"What are they doing here?" I asked, honestly not sure what I was thinking anymore.

"They're here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected." She answered. "This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It attracted a poltergeist, a nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead."

"You said there was more than one spirit?" Sam pressed curiously.

"There is." She nodded. "I just can't quite make out the second one."

"Well, one thing's for damn sure - nobody's dying in this house ever again." Dean said, his voice full of determination. "So whatever is here, how do we stop it?"

Missouri gestured for us to follow her downstairs and though to the kitchen. "Hey, Max, why don't you try and get Jenny out of the way?" Sam said quietly, nodding towards the other room.

I nodded slowly and went over to the door, pushing it open slowly. "Jenny?" I pressed. She looked up from where she was sitting on the couch with Sari beside her, Richie on her knee.

"What's going on?" She pressed.

"Everything's fine, okay? I just - it might be better if you got your kids out of here while we take care of this thing, you know?"

She frowned slightly, shaking her head. "I don't know.." She said quietly. "Why can't one of you just tell me what happened in my house?"

I looked down for a second and nodded. "Alright, when we lived here - there was this thing, I don't know exactly what, but it killed our mom.. And now there's something else here, and I'm sure you've noticed stuff happening already, it's dangerous.. And we just want to make sure that nothing happens to anyone in this house again, okay? That means you and your family." I looked her in the eye for a few seconds. "Trust us, please."

Jenny looked down for a second and nodded. "Okay."

Missouri headed out to us as Jenny and her children stood at the door, putting on their coats. "Are you sure about this?" She asked, looking back at the house for a second.

"Just take your kids to the movies or somethin'," Missouri smiled. "It'll all be over by the time you get back." Jenny still looked slightly unsure, but nodded slowly and left with her kids.

I followed Missouri back into the kitchen where Sam and Dean were sitting at the table, a variety of different herbs and roots on the table. "What's all this stuff?" I asked as we walked inside.

"Angelic Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt, a few other odds and ends." She answered. "We're gonna put them inside the walls in the north, south, east and west on each floor of the house." She explained.

"We'll be punching holes in the dry wall." Dean stated simply. "Jenny's gonna love that."

"She'll live." Missouri muttered slyly.

"And this'll destroy the spirits?" Sam asked.

"It should." She nodded. "It should purify the house completely. We'll each take a floor, but we work fast. Once the spirits realise what we're up to, things are gonna get bad."

Dean nodded. "Max comes with me." He said flatly.

Missouri just looked at him, seemingly deciding it better not to argue.

* * *

I knocked a hole into the wall of the kitchen, pushing inside one of the small bags. I turned slowly at the sound of a small bang. "Dean!" I yelled. He turned quickly from where he'd been knocking a hole into the wall with an ax and ducked out of the way, just in time as a knife flew at his head from the kitchen drawer. He grabbed my arm and pulled me down to the floor with him, behind the turned over table as the knives stuck into the top of it. There was the sound of a thud from upstairs, Dean and I looking between each other slowly. "You think that's it?" I asked, pausing as the sound of knives seemed to stop.

"Alright," Dean muttered. "We just run, okay? Upstairs." I nodded and got up with him, the two of us running straight up the stairs and into the room where Sam was lying on the floor, looking unconscious. "Sam!" Dean yelled, running over to him and pulling on the cord around his neck, not able to move it. "Max, the wall." He muttered urgently.

I nodded and ran to the side of the room, kicking a hole in it before shoving inside a bag of the herbs. A bright white flash shone through the room. I looked back over at Sam as Dean pulled the cord from around his neck, pulling him towards him tightly. I sighed in relief, seeing that he was okay, Dean nodding at me.

* * *

Missouri walked into the kitchen, looking around at the mess and frowning a little. "You sure this is over?" Sam asked her as she entered.

"I'm sure." She nodded. "Why? Why do you ask?"

"Never mind." He sighed. "It's nothing, I guess."

We all turned at the sound of the front door opening and closing. "Hello?" Jenny's voice called. "We're home." She walked into the kitchen, her eyes going wide. "What happened?"

"Hi, sorry." Sam smiled apologetically. "We'll pay for all of this." Dean looked up at him at that, shooting him a look.

"Don't you worry." Missouri smiled. "Dean's gonna clean up this mess." Dean just stood there, clearly not inclined to move. "Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop." He turned to walked away. "And don't cuss at me!" She called after him. Dean just shook his head, walking away and muttering under his breath.

After a while, the four of us left the house. Jenny waved us off and closed the door behind herself. We dropped Missouri off at her house before Dean started up the car again, heading to the motel. "Wait," Sam said suddenly. "We need to go back to Jenny's."

Dean frowned at him. "What, why?"

Sam shook his head. "Look, I can't explain it, okay? We just - please."

I just shrugged at Dean as he glanced back at me, before he turned a corner and drove back to Jenny's place. He pulled up outside and sighed. "Alright, so tell us, Sam, what are we doing here?"

"I don't know," He muttered. "I just.. I have a bad feeling."

"Why?" He frowned. "Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over."

"Yeah, well, probably." He answered, looking back up at the house. "But I just wanna make sure, that's all."

"Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now." He mumbled as he slouched down in his seat and closed his eyes. I sighed and did the same, only then realising how tired I was. I was almost asleep when I heard Sam move suddenly. "Guys, guys, look!" He said urgently. I sat up at looked out of the window, over at the house, seeing Jenny banging against her window, screaming.

"You and Max grab the kids, I'll get Jenny." Dean said quickly as we climbed out of the car and ran over towards the house. Dean kicked down the front door, the three of us running upstairs towards the bedrooms. Sam pointed towards one of them, him taking the other one. I ran inside, finding Richie crying in his crib. I grabbed him and ran back out of the room, finding Sari at the bottom of the stairs.

"Sari?" I looked around, not seeing Sam anywhere. She turned to me, looking up the stairs for a second before I grabbed her hand and ran out of the door towards Dean and Jenny. Dean seemed to notice me looking around outside for Sam, as he knelt down to Sari's level, a panicked look on his face.

"Sari, where's Sam?" He pressed.

"He's inside. Something got him!" She cried.

We simultaneously turned to the front door, jumping as it slammed closed by itself. Dean went straight to the trunk, grabbing a rifle and an ax, running towards the front door. He handed me the rifle as he began slamming against the door with the ax. Eventually, he made a hole that was big enough for us to fit through, grabbing the gun from me as he dropped the ax. "Alright, Maxie, wait here."

I raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. "You're kidding, right? No way in hell are you going in there alone."

He sighed deeply. "Max-"

"Dean." I cut him off before he had a chance to argue any further. "I'm coming with you." He nodded before turning back to the door, the two of us climbing through the hole. "Sam?" I called out, hearing nothing. "Sammy?!"

We ran upstairs, looking around for him. Dean ran first into one of the bedrooms, immediately seeing the figure of someone on fire. Dean raised the gun to it. "No, don't." Sam stopped him. "Don't."

Dean paused, a frown on his face. "What, why?!" He asked urgently.

"Because I know who it is." He said slowly. "I can see her now."

I turned back to the figure as the fire faded away, leaving behind our mom. She stood there and looked at us, her blonde hair falling over her long white nightdress. She was as pretty as Dean had always said she was, a faint smile on her face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dean lower the gun slowly. "Mom?" He whispered, I could hear the shock in his tone.

She smiled and stepped closer to him. "Dean." She said, looking from him to me and smiling softly. "Max." I never remembered what her voice had sounded like, or what she looked like other than in the few photos that I'd seen as a kid. I felt tears build up, blurring my vision slightly. My eyes followed her as she took a step towards Sam, tears now falling down his face. "Sam." She said softly. "I'm sorry."

Sam frowned at her. "For what?" She looked up at him softly, saying nothing.

She turned away from us and looked up at the ceiling. "You, get out of my house. And let go of my son." Once again, she burst into flames, the fire reaching the ceiling before it disappeared.

The force holding Sam against the wall stopped, letting him down to his feet. He walked over towards me and Dean, the three of us looking at each other, all completely stunned. "Now it's over." He said quietly.

* * *

**Jenny's House, The next morning.**

Dean stood at the trunk of the Impala, looking through a bunch of pictures that Jenny had given to him. I leaned beside him at the side of the car, watching him as he did. There was a slight smile on his face, mixed with a sadness in his eyes. "Thanks for these." He said, glancing up from them to give Jenny a light smile.

"Don't thank me," She said. "They're yours." She smiled as she turned and walked away, Dean and I both waving to her before she paused at where Sam and Missouri were sitting on the steps outside of the house talking.

Dean smiled at one of them and shook his head. "You were cute." He said lightly, looking up at me and smirking. "What happened?"

"Shut up," I laughed, kicking him playfully in the leg. "I'm still cute."

He rolled his eyes and placed the placed the box of photos into the trunk of the car, closing it and leaning against it beside me, his arms folded over his chest. "So, I was meaning to talk to you," He began quietly. I glanced up at him, noting the uncomfortable look on his face. "You know, since we told Sam, we haven't really talked about it and," He paused for a few seconds, his voice turning completely serious. "Look, Maxie, I know that I haven't been listening to you, not in the way that I should have been, and I'm sorry for that, I am.. And I'm sorry if I made you think that I'm not here for you, or that you couldn't talk to me about this, whatever this is.. I'm sorry if you felt like you were on your own in this, because you're not. And I'm listening to you now, okay?"

"Dean, I just - I don't wanna fight anymore." I said quietly, looking up at him with a light sigh. There was concern drawn all over his face, mixed with a genuine apologetic smile. "I'm tired of fighting you, I mean, you used to be the only one who I didn't fight with, you know?."

Dean nodded slowly. "I know." He said softly. "And, you know, if it's what you want, and it's what you think is best, I'm not going to fight you on this anymore - I'm not going to push you to take anything, I'm not going to watch what you are and aren't taking." I frowned, not actually believing what he was saying. Usually when Dean had made his mind up about something, he stuck with it. "But, you have to start being honest, alright? I mean, if you start feeling like before, or things get rough, then you stop and you say something, you don't keep it all bottled up like the last time. You hear me?"

"Yeah, Dean, I hear you." He smiled a little and nodded at me.

"Good." We both stood there for a couple of minutes, not saying anything to each other. I felt better now, knowing that Dean and I were okay again, and that maybe we could get back to being the way we had been before all of this, before the possession, before the fights, before the arguments - back when we were like a team. "Sam, you ready?" Dean called over to him, breaking the silence.

Sam nodded and got to his feet, heading over towards us with Missouri. "Don't you three be strangers." She smiled at us.

"We won't." Dean answered, giving her a small smile back.

"See you around." The three of us nodded, all getting into the car as Dean started up the engine, put in a tape and drove away.

* * *

**September 27th, 2005, 11:50PM.**

I set my whiskey glass down on the bar in front of me, looking down at the brown liquid miserably. This is the way I'd always wanted to avoid becoming, drinking cheap whiskey in some crappy bar, stressed out over hunting. Yet, here I was. I felt someone sit down beside me, turning slowly to Dean's concerned face. He looked me over carefully, looking like he was torn between yelling at me and getting drunk himself. "Max," He began flatly. "Come on, you're coming with me." I didn't say anything to that, just kept my eyes fixed on the glass, wishing I could just be left alone for a while. "C'mon, you shouldn't be here. You haven't slept in days." I could hear the concern clearly in his voice. The worry, the sadness, the pity, and that all made it feel worse. I didn't want him feeling sorry for me, about any of it. I could barely bring myself to look at him. His bruised face just one clear reminder of everything that I'd done, like a punch to the stomach every single time that I faced him. "Please," He tried again, his tone becoming desperate. "Just talk to me, Maxie, that's what I'm here for."

I sighed and took another drink of whiskey, looking down at the small glass in my hand, studying it like it was the most interesting thing in the world. "Dean-" I began, getting no further before he cut me off.

"No," He sounded like he was at the end of his tether, his patience with me completely gone. "I'm not taking this anymore, you're going to make yourself ill." He reached out and took the glass from my hand, setting it down on the bar beside us with a small thud. "Listen to me, you can't carry on like this, Max.." He paused and lowered his voice. "I think you need to see someone."

I looked up at him in disbelief, even from him, that was the last thing I'd ever expected to hear. "See someone?" I repeated slowly, not even sure on whether I'd gotten the message right. "Like who? You mean a shrink?"

Dean sighed, shaking his head at me. "Max-" He began, his tone remaining patient, but I could see that it was taking everything in him not to lose his temper.

"You wanna send me to some freaking head doctor, Dean? Nice." I stood from the bar stool, getting to my feet and running a hand through my hair. "How long do you think it'll be before I'm in a padded cell, huh?" I shook my head, turning and making my way through the bar towards the door, pushing open the door forcefully and heading out onto the cold, dark parking lot. I heard the door bang open and closed behind me, then footsteps following me.

"Max, that wasn't what I meant." Dean called, walking up behind me. "But obviously something is going on with you, and I don't know how to make it better because you won't tell me what's going on in your head!" His voice was rising, the anger and frustration and fear beginning to come out. "You keep so much hidden away, Max, and so much bottled up, you make it impossible to know what you're thinking! And honestly, all of this - this behaviour, it's really starting to scare me."

I shook my head, turning around to face him. "Dean, how many times, I'm fine." I tried to sound confident, but the utterly hopeless look he had on his face, the look of despair, it was almost too much to handle. He'd always been the one I'd looked to for strength, and now he looked as helpless as he clearly felt.

"No, Max, you are not fine." He argued, his tone hard. "How the hell can you not see that?! I mean, you haven't eaten in, what, three days now? And I know for a fact that you don't sleep. Hell, you barely even talk anymore- it's not you. And you can stand there and tell me that you're just tired, or that you're just having a bad day, but what you don't seem to understand here is that I know better." I looked him straight in the face, for the first time that day, he looked sure of something. "I can see it in your eyes, sis, you're not okay. You're about as far from okay as I have _ever_ seen you, and you won't let me help you.. The nightmares, and the drinking - you're supposed to be the happy one here."

I shook my head, I couldn't handle this. I didn't know what to say to him, I didn't know how I could make him understand what I didn't even understand myself. "I am not having this argument, Dean." I muttered, heading away from him towards the street. "Not again."

"Maxine." That stopped me dead in my tracks. If he was calling me Maxine, he meant business. "Don't you dare," He added quietly. "You're not going anywhere until we've sorted this out."

I turned back to him, shrugging my shoulders slightly. "What is there to sort out?" I asked, my voice quieter than I'd wanted it to be. "I mean, really, what is the point?" Dean frowned, like he was unsure what I meant. "I just, I don't want to do it anymore, Dean. I'm tired of watching people die, of not being able to save them - I'm sick of this job, the weight that comes with it. It's not fair. Everything that this job has cost us, you know - Mom, Dad, Sam, they didn't deserve any of this. And after what happened, I'm scared that the next time it's gonna be you that leaves." Tears were falling down my cheeks now, my voice hardly a whisper.

Dean took a step towards me, reaching out and resting a hand on my shoulder gently, bending down slightly to look me straight in the face. "Maxie," He began softly. "What are you talking about? You love this job, I know you do." He frowned a little, studying my face for an answer.

"I don't know," I admitted quietly. "I just, I can't find the energy to pretend like I care anymore. I feel like I'm drowning, Dean." I admitted as more tears rolled down my face, everything that I'd been keeping bottled up coming out. Dean looked a little confused by that, obviously unsure at what I meant. "I don't know how else to explain it, I just - I don't want to do it anymore." Dean didn't say anything, just looked at me, like he wanted me to just get it all out. "And that last hunt was so rough, the things that I did-"

"Maxie, how many times, kid, it wasn't you." He said softly. "That wasn't your fault, I don't know how many more times I can tell you that. You need to stop blaming yourself."

"I can't handle this job, this life, I mean, I know that it's supposed to be hard.. But lately, I just-" I paused and shook my head, my breath catching in my throat. "It's been a week, Dad's already bailed on us, and you-" I stopped and ran a hand over my face, I couldn't say anymore, I felt like I was about to break down, the tears falling freely.

Dean closed the gap between us, wrapping his arms around me tightly. My hands gripped the front of his shirt while I cried into his chest, unable to stop. I couldn't even remember what I was crying about anymore, but it was all coming out. All of the pain, the guilt, the fear, all of it. And I couldn't calm down. "Maxie," Dean pressed after a couple of minutes, his voice calm but I could hear the shakiness in his tone, he sounded like he was holding back tears of his own. "Please, just breathe, okay? I've got you, you're fine, just breathe.. I've got you."

I gradually began to calm down, my breathing evening out a little as my tears calmed. "Dean-" I began, my breath catching before I could get out anything else.

"Shh, you're okay." Dean reassured, his voice quiet. "I've got you, Maxie, I've got you." I breathed out deeply, my soft crying becoming quieter and slower until we were just stood there in the middle of the parking lot, Dean's arms wrapped around me protectively, my face buried in his chest. "I swear to you, no matter what, no matter what the hunt, or the monster, or whatever situation we end up in, whoever else comes and goes, it's always me and you, okay? To the end. I'm not going anywhere." He tightened his arms around me, breathing out deeply. "I need you to remember that, Maxie, please." I pulled back from him, wiping the tears from my cheeks. I didn't even understand this myself anymore, it just hurt. All of it. "Please, just go and talk to someone. Do it for me, yeah?" I looked up at him, seeing the desperation in his eyes. "I'm begging you here, please. I won't lose you, Maxie, not like this."

"Why the hell do you even care anymore, Dean?" I whispered. He looked a little taken aback by that, even I didn't know where any of this was coming from. I was a mess, I couldn't tell what I felt anymore, and feeling like I didn't have Dean in my corner anymore was pushing me over the edge. "I mean, I don't care anymore. I'm just way, way, way past caring about any of it." I could feel the tears in my eyes again.

Dean just looked at me for a few seconds. "Why do I care?" He repeated quietly, shaking his head at me. His face seemed to soften slightly, his voice remaining calm and quiet. "I'll tell you why I care, Max. Because I miss my little sister." His voice was gentle, his hands rested on my shoulders. "I miss the you who actually cared about the job, the you who woke up with a smile on her face, who used to skip around the motel room driving me insane because she thought that it was hilarious.. I miss the you who used to sing in the car, who used to wake up first thing in the morning to watch some stupid chick flick show she claimed she didn't like.. Maxie, the moods and the being down all the time, it isn't who you are." I looked up at him, tears falling silently down my cheeks. "Maxie, please. You're the one thing that I have here to brighten up my day, I can't take you being like this. It's just not you. And you won't let me help you. So let someone else help you.."

* * *

_Ahh, this chapter nearly ended me to write, I've been doing it for like the past five hours! So, hope you liked it, and that we got to see more about Max and Dean's past, and how he got her to go and talk to a doctor.  
Also, Sam and his visions - I'm really excited about getting further into the season and writing more about those!  
I want to thank you all so much for the amazing reviews, favorites, follows, and the PM's, your support is truly amazing, and I love you all for reading! :-) _


	8. Chapter 8

**Motel room, 10:01PM. **

I walked into the motel room, finding Dean sitting at the table, reading through Dad's journal, while Sam sat on one of the beds, talking to someone on the phone. Dean nodded at me as I placed the beers he'd sent me for down on the table, tossing the bag in the trash. "No, Dad was in California last we heard from him." Sam was saying on the phone. "We just thought, he comes to you sometimes, maybe you've seen him in the last few weeks.. Just, call us if you hear anything, thanks, Caleb." He finished before hanging up the phone with a frustrated sigh.

"Caleb hasn't heard from him?" I asked as he dropped the phone down beside him on the bed.

"Nope," He answered. "And neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim." He turned to Dean. "What about the journal?" He asked. "Any leads in there?"

Dean shook his head. "No, same as the last time I looked." He muttered. "Nothing I can make out.. I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like friggin' Yoda."

"You know, maybe we should call the Feds." Sam suggested. "File a missing person's."

"We've talked about this." Dean countered. "Dad would be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail."

"I don't care anymore." Sam replied simply.

Dean sighed, glancing across to the other side of the room as his phone rang. "Maxie, get that for me, will you?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "You're so lazy, you know that?" I muttered, getting up and going through the pile of clothes he'd left on the bed, looking for his phone.

"After all that happened back in Kansas," Sam went on at him. "I mean, he should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and, nothing."

"I know!" Dean snapped, raising his voice slightly.

"You know, he could be dead for all we know." Sam argued.

I looked up at him at that, not a comment I expected would go down well with Dean. "Don't say that!" He almost shouted. "He's not dead. He's - he's.." Dean trailed off, clearly struggling for an answer.

"He's what?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "He's hiding? He's busy?"

I found Dean's phone, flipping it open and looking at the text message; saying nothing but '42,-89'. I frowned a little, reading it a couple of times before it sank in. "Huh, I don't believe it." I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else.

"What is it?" Sam pressed curiously, momentarily forgetting his argument with Dean.

Dean got to his feet, crossing the room to me and looking down over my shoulder at the phone. "Is that.." He took the phone and looked down at it. "It's coordinates." He said, looking from me to Sam slowly.

"Coordinates?" Sam repeated, looking between us for more information. "From who?"

Dean just looked at him for a second. "Well, who else are they gonna be from?" He asked simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, wasting no time in moving back to the table and opening Sam's laptop.

"Dad?" He pressed, looking slightly skeptical at the thought. Dean nodded, glancing back at the phone for a second before he began typing something on the laptop. "You think Dad was texting us?" Sam pressed, sounding skeptical.

Dean didn't look away from the screen, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "He's given us coordinates before." He reasoned.

Sam shook his head. "The man can barely work a toaster, Dean."

"Sam," Dean snapped. "It's good news. It means he's okay, or, alive at least."

Sam sighed. "Well, was there a number on the caller ID?"

"Nah," Dean shook his head slowly. "It said unknown."

Sam now really didn't look convinced. "Well, where do the coordinates point?"

"That's the interesting part." Dean answered, frowning at the laptops screen. "Rockford, Illinois."

"Okay, and that's interesting how?"

"I just checked the local Rockford paper, take a look at this." He turned the laptop around slightly to show me and Sam. "This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out." He explained. I looked over the news article, getting the general story of what Dean was saying. "And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum."

"Okay, I'm not following." Sam answered. "What has this got to do with us?"

"Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal, let's see.." He paused and pulled it towards himself. "Here." He pointed to the top of one of the pages. "Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths - till last week at least.. I think this is where he wants us to go." He finished.

Sam snorted, taking a step back and shaking his head. "This is a job." He said simply. "Dad wants us to work a job."

Dean shrugged. "Well, maybe we'll meet up with him?" He suggested. "Maybe he's there."

"And maybe he's not," Sam countered. "I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing."

"Who cares?" Dean muttered, closing the laptop forcefully. "If he wants us there, it's good enough for me!"

"This doesn't strike you as weird?" Sam frowned. "The texting? The coordinates?"

"Sam!" Dean finally lost his battle of keeping his voice down, his patience clearly short. "Dad's telling us to go somewhere, we're going." Sam only shook his head, looking beyond annoyed, and sighed deeply.

* * *

**The next day.**

Dean pulled over the Impala outside of the Asylum, the three of us climbing out and looking up at it. I sighed as Dean took a step forwards and jumped over the tall fence around it, following his lead and landing beside him. Sam did the same before we headed over towards the doors. Dean pushed it open, heading inside first, followed my me and then Sam. "So, apparently the cops chased the kids here," Sam spoke up, gesturing to a sign above some double doors. "Into the South wing."

"South wing, huh?" Dean repeated slowly. "Wait a minute," He pulled out Dad's journal and flipped through a few pages. "1972, three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place."

"So whatever's going on, the south wing is the heart of it." Sam concluded.

"But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a bunch more deaths?" Dean frowned, looking back to the journal.

Sam looked around slowly, his eyes stopping at the broken chain around the door handles. "Looks like the doors are usually chained," He stated. "Could've been chained up for years."

Dean took a step forwards and nodded. "Yeah, to keep people out."

"Or to keep something in." I added lightly.

Sam glanced down at me for a second before he slowly pushed open the doors to a long, dark hallway. We headed through, walking down it slowly. "Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel." Dean smirked at Sam.

Sam shook his head. "Dude, enough." He answered flatly.

"I'm serious." Dean insisted. "You've gotta be careful, alright? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on."

"I told you, it's not ESP." Sam muttered. "I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams."

"Yeah, whatever." Dean shook his head a little. "Don't ask, don't tell."

He glanced down at the EMF meter in Dean's hands. "You get any reading on that thing or not?" Sam pressed, clearly wanting to change the subject.

Dean shook his head. "Nope." He shrugged. "Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home."

"Spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day." Sam reasoned.

"Yeah, the freaks come out at night." Dean smirked. "Hey, Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic; Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?"

Sam only shoved Dean in the back of the shoulder as he laughed. We headed into one of the rooms, it was dark and dusty, looking like there hadn't been anyone inside it in years. Dean let out a low whistle as he walked further inside, glancing around the different objects around the room slowly. "Man, electro-shock, lobotomies, they did some twisted stuff to these people.." He paused and turned to me with a grin. "Kinda like our man Jack in Cuckoo's Nest." He added, making crazy eyes.

I let out a laugh and shook my head, Sam rolling his eyes at us. "So, whaddaya think?" I asked. "Ghosts possessing people?"

"Maybe." Sam shrugged. "Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting."

"Spirits driving them insane." Dean said, nodding his head slowly.

"Kinda like our man Jack in The Shining." I smirked at him. Dean laughed, turning back to Sam who just looked at us.

"When are we going to talk about it?" Sam said flatly, looking more towards Dean's direction than mine.

Dean frowned. "Talk about what?"

"About the fact that Dad's not here." He said, a serious look on his face.

"Oh," Dean nodded slowly. "Let me see, uh, how about never." He muttered.

Sam sighed deeply. "I'm being serious," He went on. "He sent us here-"

"So am I, Sam." Dean cut him off. "Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here, we'll pick up the search later."

"It doesn't matter what he wants." Sam stated. I shook my head and sighed, so sick of watching the argue like this.

"See. That attitude? Right there? That is why I always get the extra cookie." Dean responded, I assumed in an attempt to try and lighten Sam's mood. An attempt which clearly failed.

"Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him." He persisted. "We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about."

"I understand that, Sam." Dean retorted. "But he's given us an order."

"So what," He frowned. "We gotta always follow Dad's orders?"

"Of course we do." Sam looked nothing but frustrated, clearly ready to carry it on. Dean stared at him for a few seconds before he turned away, ending the conversation. I watched him pick up an old sign, wiping off the dust with his fingertips. "Sanford Ellicott," He read. "You know what we gotta do - we gotta find out more about the south wing. See if something happened there." He said, turning and shoving the sign into Sam's hands before he walked out of the room, clearly still annoyed.

* * *

**Asylum, 11:45PM. **

That night, we headed back to the Asylum. Sam pushed open the door, a video camera and a flashlight in his hands, Dean and I behind him. "Getting readings?" He pressed, glancing back at the EMF meter in Dean's hands.

Dean nodded. "Yeah," He answered. "Big time."

Sam glanced back at the video camera in his hand. "This place is orbing like crazy." He commented, his voice low.

"Probably multiple spirits out and about." Dean reasoned, looking around us slowly.

Sam nodded. "And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting,"

"We gotta find them and burn them." Dean finished for him. "Just be careful, though, the only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit, is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer." He muttered.

We walked further on, so far seeing nothing there at all. I was aimlessly wandering around one of the small hospital rooms, not even sure what I was looking for, when I heard a small bang behind me. "Guys!" Sam suddenly yelled from outside of the room. Dean and I looked between each other, Dean pulling a gun out of his bag as we ran towards him. There was a woman, white-haired and one bloody eye practically hanging out of her face, moving towards him slowly.

"Sam, get down!" Dean yelled.

Sam hit the floor just as Dean shot the woman, her body vanishing. He slowly got to his feet again, looking around slowly. "That was weird." He said slowly.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, finally lowering the gun. "You're telling me."

"No, Dean, I mean it was weird that she didn't attack me." Sam said slowly.

"Looked pretty aggro from where I was standing." Dean muttered flatly, turning to leave the room.

She didn't hurt me." Sam continued. "She didn't even try! So if she didn't wanna hurt me then what did she want?"

Dean shrugged. "Alright, you know what, let's split up." Sam just looked at him. "This place is huge, we have no idea what's going on and a bunch of unrecovered bodies to find, we'd get that done faster by splitting up. "

Sam sighed, nodding his head slowly. "Alright, fine." He muttered, turning and heading off in another direction.

"You two are driving me friggin' insane, you know that?" I muttered, watching him go. Dean turned to face me and frowned. "Whatever it is that's got you at each other's throats like this, you need to sort it out, before it gets any worse than it already is." With that I picked up a gun from the bag and took a step back. "I'll see you later." I said, turning and walking away.

* * *

I stopped where I was in the middle of one of the hallways of the Asylum, for a second thinking that I'd heard someone shouting. I paused, taking a breath and getting a better grip on my gun, shaking my head to myself as I carried on. I headed around a corner, crashing straight into something hard. I jumped back, pointing my gun straight at them, looking up to have a gun pointed straight at my own face in the hands of Dean. He took a breath as he realised it was me, both of us lowering our guns. "Jesus, Max." He breathed out, punching me lightly in the shoulder. "Don't do that." I laughed lightly, shaking my head, glancing between him and the young girl standing next to him. "Oh, this is Kat." He said simply, shooting me one of those 'people are morons' looks. "She's looking for her boyfriend." He commented, glancing back at her for a second.

"Hey." She said lightly, giving a small smile. Dean just carried on walking, me beside him and Kat slightly behind us. "Gavin?" She called out, looking around slowly. "Gavin?!"

Dean sighed, turning back to face her. "I got a question for ya," He said simply. "You've seen a lot of horror movies, yeah?"

She frowned, looking a little confused. "Uh, I guess so." She shrugged.

Dean nodded. "Do me a favor, next time you see one, pay attention." He said lightly. "When someone says a place is haunted, don't go in." He turned and carried on walking both our flashlights beginning to flicker and fade. "Son of a bitch." He muttered, shaking it slightly before shoving it back to his pocket. "It's alright, I got a lighter."

"Ow." Kat hissed. "You're hurting my arm."

"What are you talking about?" We both turned around to her, realising that we were too far apart to be touching her. I glanced down, seeing a disembodied hand clutching to her arm. Before she had a chance to react at all, she was dragged backwards into a room, the metal door slamming closed behind her.

We ran towards it, making an attempt at opening it but getting nowhere. Kat banged against the door from the other side but it wouldn't budge. "Lemme out!" She pleaded, banging against it harder. "Please!"

"Kat, hang on!" I yelled back as Dean picked up a metal pipe, giving me a slight shrug before he tried again to open it. The banging seemed to calm slightly before it stopped completely. After a few seconds, Kat screamed, a loud terrified scream.

"What's going on?" I turned as Sam came running towards us, a teenage guy, I assumed Kat's boyfriend right behind him.

"Is that Kat?" The guy said, looking more than a little freaked out.

"She's inside with one of them." Dean said quietly, taking a step back from the door.

Sam took a step towards the door, listening intently. "Kat, it's not going to hurt you, listen to me. You've got to face it." He called. "You've got to calm down."

I turned to Sam, my eyes wide. "She's gotta what?"

"I have to what?!" Kat shouted through the door.

"These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate. You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it. It's the only way to get out of there."

"No!" She shouted back.

Sam sighed. "Look at it, come on. You can do it."

We stood there for a few seconds, none of us saying anything. "Kat?" Gavin eventually called, getting no answer.

"Man, I hope you're right about this." Dean muttered.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, me too."

Suddenly, the lock clicked on the door before it opened slowly, revealing Kat standing in the doorway. Sam passed her and walked into the room, looking around quickly before turning back to us and shaking his head slowly. "One thirty-seven." She mumbled.

Dean frowned at her. "Sorry?"

"It whispered in my ear, one thirty-seven." She said slowly.

Dean, Sam and I looked between each other. "Room number." We all said at the same time.

We took a few steps away from them where we couldn't be heard. "Alright," Sam began. "So, if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone,"

"Then what are they trying to do?" Dean asked.

"Maybe that's what they're trying to tell us." He muttered.

Dean nodded. "I guess we'll find out." He said, turning back to Kat and Gavin. "Alright, are you guys ready to leave this place?"

They both nodded quickly. "That's an understatement." Kat said.

"Okay." Dean turned to Sam. "You get them outta here. I'm going to go find room 137. Maxie, you wanna stick with Sam?" He added, handing me a gun. I nodded slowly, watching him turn and head off down the hallway.

The four of us walked quickly down the hallway, heading towards the exit. "So, how do you guys know about all this ghost stuff?" Kat asked curiously, looking up at Sam.

Sam glanced back at me for a second before turning his attention back to her. "It's kinda our job." He answered simply.

Kat shook her head. "Why would anyone want a job like that?" She asked quietly.

Sam huffed a laugh. "I had a crappy guidance counselor." He muttered sarcastically.

"And Dean?" She pressed. "He's your boss?"

I groaned inwardly at the look on Sam's face. "No." He said flatly, neither of them saying anything else about it as we got to the door.

Sam tugged on the handle, finding it locked. He frowned and tried another one, finding that was locked, too. "Alright," He began calmly, turning back to face us. "I think we have a small problem."

"Then break it down." Gavin said simply, clearly becoming inpatient.

"I don't think that's gonna work." Sam muttered.

"Then a window." He suggested.

Kat shook her head. "They're barred." She said quietly.

"Then how are we supposed to get out?!" Gavin pressed, a look of fear on his face.

"That's the point." Sam said, looking back to me. "We're not. There's something in here, and it doesn't want us to leave."

"Those patients." Kat said, looking around slowly.

"No," Sam shook his head. "Something else."

"Alright," I said calmly, looking up and down slowly. "Sam, you try and find another way of getting them out of here, I'm gonna go find Dean."

"Wait, I don't think you should go wandering off alone." He said, not looking at all happy with the plan.

"Look, Sammy, if there's something in here, then the faster we find it the better." I gave him a small shrug, taking a step back. "Besides, I'll be fine. Trust me."

Sam sighed heavily and nodded at me. "Be careful, Max." He said sternly. "I mean it."

* * *

I walked through the halls of the asylum until I came to a stop at one of the doors, finding Dean sitting in a chair reading through what looked like an old journal, a concerned frown on his face. "Well, all work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy." He muttered to himself, apparently not having noticed I'd been standing there.

"Dude," Dean jumped, turning sharply to look at me and letting out a breath. I laughed to myself and walked further into the room. "You know, sitting alone in a mental asylum reading books and chatting to yourself doesn't really give off a convincing image of sanity, bro." Dean just rolled his eyes at me, a small smirk playing on his face. "You find anything good?"

"Define good." He muttered, giving the journal a slight shake. "I found his log book. Apparently he was doing a little experimenting on his patients, like really awful stuff.. Makes lobotomies look like a coupla asprin."

"Yikes." I commented, raising an eyebrow. "So, where does that get us? I mean, wasn't it the patients who were rioting?"

"Yeah, they were rioting against Dr. Ellicott." He answered. "Dr. Feelgood was working on some sort of, like, extreme rage therapy. He thought that if he could get his patients to vent their anger then they would be cured of it, instead it only made them worse and angrier and angrier." I looked up at him, thinking through what he was saying. "So, I'm thinking, what if his spirit is doing the same thing? To the cop? To the kids in the seventies, making them so angry they become homicidal."

"Well, if that's true, then we gotta find Sam, before he does." I said slowly. "We gotta find his bones." Dean nodded, closing the journal and dropping it to the floor. "But I thought they'd never found a body? Where the hell are we supposed to look?"

"Well, the log book said he had some sort of procedure room down here, somewhere he'd work on his patients." He said, getting to his feet with a sigh. "So, if I were a patient, I'd drag his ass down there, do a little work on him myself."

"Alright, we gotta find this room then." Dean nodded and lead the way to the door, pausing in the hallway and looking up and down. "You go that way, I'll go this way." I said, pulling my gun from the back of my jeans and turning to head off down the hall.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean grabbed me around the arm and pulled me back. "You seriously think you're wandering off in a haunted mental asylum on your own?" He shook his head slowly. "No way in hell."

"Dean, I'll be fine." I gave him a small smile, taking a step back. "Look, we need to find Sam, and his bones. I promise I'll scream if anything goes wrong." I added lightly, turning away from him and walking off.

"That's not funny, Max!" He called after me before I heard him sigh and head off in the other direction.

I walked for a few minutes, absolutely no idea where I was, pausing when I heard the sound of people talking in the distance. I headed down the hallway, following the voices as they came gradually louder. I turned the corner, jumping back at the sound of a gunshot, the plaster of the wall crumbling beside me. "Damn it," I muttered, mostly to myself. "Don't shoot, alright? It's just me." I called, getting to my feet and taking a breath. I shook my head to myself as I turned the corner, glancing back at the marks left in the wall. "What are you still doing here? Where's Sam?" I pressed, looking between Kat and Gavin slowly.

"Sam went to the basement." Gavin answered, a frown forming on his face. "He said Dean called him from down there, that was about five minutes ago." He paused for a second, the two of them looking between each other. "Except, since then, Dean's been back here, and he said he'd never called him at all."

I nodded slowly, guaranteed I wasn't going to like this. "Basement, huh?" They both nodded slowly. "Alright, watch yourselves." I muttered, turning away from them and heading down the hallway. "And watch out for me!" I called back over my shoulder.

I turned the corner, pulling out my phone and calling Dean's number, sighing deeply as he didn't answer. And the only reason that Dean wouldn't answer his phone on a hunt was if he was in trouble. I headed down some stairs, pulling my torch from my back pocket as it became gradually darker, looking around slowly. I broke into a run at the sound of a gunshot, running through the door and stopping dead in my tracks. Dean was lying on the ground, looking like he was struggling for his breath, a pained frown on his face. Sam stood over him, a gun in his hand, glaring down at him. "Sam?" I looked between them slowly, completely lost.

"We've gotta burn Ellicott's bones," Dean groaned, making an attempt to sit up again. "Then this will all be over, and you'll be back to normal."

Sam scoffed. "I am normal." He said flatly. "I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? 'Cause you're following Dad's orders like a good little soldier? Because you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?"

Dean looked lost for words, Sam just looked angry. I moved further into the room, standing beside Dean, raising my hands slightly, not really wanting to be shot by Sam. "Sammy," I pressed quietly. "This isn't you talking." I knew for a fact, whether that was what he really thought or not, I didn't know, but I knew that the real Sam, the Sam without a scrambled brain, would never say anything like that to Dean.

Sam shook his head, his attention moving from Dean to me. "Don't you start." He muttered. "You're just as bad as he is, Max." He said, pointing down at Dean with his gun. "Can't you see that? You follow Dean around with the same blind obedience that he has for Dad." He slowly shook his head. "You see, that's the difference between the three of us. I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic, like you two."

"So what are you gonna do, huh?" Dean pressed. "Are you gonna kill us?"

"You know what, I am so sick of doing what you tell me to do." Sam snapped. "We're no closer to finding Dad today than we were six months ago."

"Well, then here. Let me make it easier for you." He reached into his jeans and pulled out his gun, holding it up to Sam. "Come on." He pushed. "Take it. Real bullets are gonna work a hell of a lot better than rock salt."

I looked down at him, my eyes wide. I couldn't believe what he was saying. "What the hell are you doing?" I muttered.

Dean just ignored me, his eyes fixed solely on Sam. "Take it!" He yelled. Sam hesitated for a few seconds before reaching out and grabbing the gun from him, pointing it right at his head. "You hate me that much?" Dean said quietly. Whether he was faking this or not, I wasn't sure anymore, but there was something in his voice that sounded hurt either way. "You think you could kill your own brother?" He paused, Sam saying nothing. "Then go ahead, pull the trigger."

"Sam, put the gun down, right now." I took a step forwards, practically holding my breath in fear.

"Do it!" Dean yelled. Sam didn't move for a couple of seconds before he pulled the trigger. My heart stopped at the sound of it, a deep breath coming out when it registered that there had been no gun shot with it. He tried again, and then again, nothing happening. Dean made a sudden movement, punching him hard around the face and knocking Sam to the ground. He struggled to get up himself and took a step towards him. "Man, I'm not going to give you a loaded pistol." He said casually. Sam just stared up at him until Dean delivered a vicious right cross to knock him flat out, almost falling over himself as he did. "Sorry, Sammy." He said to him quietly, patting him on the shoulder as he straightened himself up again. He looked up at me and shook his head slowly. "Right, we gotta find these bones, before anyone else gets zapped with the crazy." He muttered. I nodded, turning around and beginning to look through some large cupboards on one side of the room, hearing Dean banging around behind me. "Oh, that's just gross." He suddenly muttered.

I turned, seeing what he was getting at. Out of the small cupboard he'd opened, a mummified corpse had fallen out slightly, the awful smell filling the small room. He pulled a container of salt from his jacket and began throwing it over the body, followed by spraying lighter fluid over it. I glanced down as the torch I was still holding flickered slightly. "Uh, Dean." I pressed.

He turned to me, out of nowhere a table flying across the room and hitting him straight on, knocking him to the floor. Dr. Ellicott appeared out of nowhere, grabbing his face as his hands lit up. "Don't be afraid," He said to him quietly. "I'm going to help you.. I'm going to make you all better."

I made a move for Dean's bag, finding his lighter and going unnoticed as I flicked it on and tossed it at the body. The Doctor let go of Dean as his remains began to burn, the ghost turning black and falling to the ground with a thud, crumbling with the impact. Before either of us could say anything, Sam let out a pained groan from the other side of the room as he woke up, flexing his jaw painfully. "You're not going to try to kill us, are ya?" Dean asked lightly.

Sam pushed his jaw lightly with his hand, shaking his head. "No."

Dean nodded. "Good." He muttered. "Because that would be awkward."

* * *

The five of us headed outside of the asylum, into the sunlight. "Thanks, guys." Kat said, looking between the three of us with a smile.

Gavin nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

"No more haunted asylums, okay?" Dean said lightly. They both gave a small nod before turning and walking away.

We watched as they walked off towards their car, all of us turning to the Impala. "Hey, guys?" Sam pressed. Dean and I both turned to look at him, there was an uncomfortable frown on his face. "I'm sorry, guys, I said some awful things back there, to both of you."

Dean looked down for a second, then to me, and then back to Sam. "You remember all that?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded slowly. "It's like, I couldn't control it.. But I didn't mean it, any of it."

Dean just looked at him. "You didn't, huh?"

Sam frowned. "No, of course not." He said flatly. "Do we need to talk about this?"

Dean made a move towards the car, pulling open the door. "No," He muttered. "I'm not really in the sharing and caring kinda mood, I just wanna get some sleep." Sam sighed, clearly not happy, but climbed into the car anyway, not saying a word about it.

* * *

_Guys thank you so much for reading again, and for reviewing, following, favouriting etc. Means the world! :)_


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